Opposites
by letitbe54
Summary: What if the Cullens weren't the picture perfect family? What if they were the exact opposite? Bella get's stuck in a parallel universe with the Cullen opposites, including a slutty Esme, a dark Carlisle, a sweet Rosalie, a social Jasper, a serious Emmett, a gloomy Alice and a cocky Edward. Will she be able to get out or will she be trapped forever? Cannon couples post BD R&R!
1. The Cave

**Summary: Rosalie and Emmett uncover dark magic in the woods behind the Cullen house, magic that causes the personalities of the Cullens to flip. Esme and Carlisle are no longer acting like adults, so it's up to the Cullen kids to get to the bottom of it, before it's too late. **

**If you read Keep Me Close or Never Let Me Go, Do Not associate them with this story. This story is it's own. **

**Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Meyer owns characters **

**OoOoOoO**

**Prelude**

Darkness shrouded the little city of Forks on the morning of April 5th, 2014. It was early, 5 AM to be exact. The streets were nearly deserted, a few early workers being the only exceptions. A mail truck trudging through the sodden roads was a rarity on a day like this, everyone wanted to be safe inside their houses.

See, sometimes even humans can tell when something bad is about to happen. They say a number of people on the Titanic put on their life vests before they went to bed on the night of its legendary sinking, so why not now? The people of Forks knew something was up and they didn't want to know what. So the sleepy residents of the tiny Washington stayed in beds a few minutes longer, a wise decision for something evil had arrived.

Though most residents were fast asleep the Cullens were not. The big white house at the end of the road was bustling with activity, even at this early hour. Love blossomed in and around the Cullen mansion, and an enticing sweet scent poured from its doors and windows. Gardens flowed with flowers and produce, all covered in a shiny coat of rain. Though the Cullens were members of the undead, their house and its surroundings said the very opposite.

Our story begins here, in this expansive house built over a century ago. Eight vampires live in this house, and by the day's end none of them will be the same.

**OoOoOoO**

"I've been having some freaky visions lately," Alice said, setting down her fashion magazine. Her and her husband had been relaxing in their room on this early morning, relishing in their family's absence. "I mean really freaky."

"Like what?" Jasper asked, concern flooding his voice.

Alice leaned back and sighed. The visions she had been having were hard to explain to say the least. "Well, I don't know, there's a lot of colors and then blackness, and then everyone is acting weird and dressing weird, do you get what I mean?" she asked her husband tentatively.

The tall blonde closed his book and stood up, walking over to a large glass window overlooking a rushing river. "I wish I did, love, but I don't. Does it seem dangerous?"

She shook her head steadily, "I can't really see much but by what I've already seen I don't think it's anything dangerous. Just weird." She twisted her hands nervously, awaiting a reply from Jasper.

"From what I've learned over the years, weird is sometimes good," he smiled warmly and pulled his wife into an embrace. "Don't worry about it, everything will be alright."

**OoOoOoO**

"Emmett, let's go find Carlisle and Esme. This place is giving me the creeps," Rosalie called, jumping onto a moss covered rock.

"Oh, come on Rosie! This'll be fun! Who knew this was out here?" Rosalie sighed. This was not her definition of a 'fun outing.' But Emmett had insisted they explore the little alcove thirty miles west of the house. Carlisle and Esme had tagged along, but broke off early on, deciding to hunt instead. They were alone.

"I don't know Em," she started, scared for the first time in months, though she didn't know why. She was a vampire, what did she have to fear? She could take any human and together she and Emmett could take any vampire. There was absolutely no need to worry. Yet something was telling her not to go into that cave. That something bad was going to happen if she did.

"I'm going in Rosie. Come on, there's nothing in there! Nothing to worry about," he trudged through the river, Rosalie a few paces behind.

"I'm coming too," she said, pushing past the rushing water. The cave was made right out of the hillside, as if someone had built it. But Rosalie knew better and so did Emmett. No one had inhabited these woods in many years.

Slippery moss covered the bank and thick vines covered the entry to the cave. Rosalie's boots sunk into the mud as they walked, causing her to groan in frustration.

Emmett just smiled and brushed away the branches and vines, revealing a very dark and very deep cave. "Ready?" he asked, pulling her up so she could see in.

"It's pretty dark. Even for us," she said nervously. But she had to be brave. "Let's go," she said, making Emmett chuckle lightly. His Rose never backed down from a challenge.

And so the couple made their way through the dark tunnel, their eyes squinting and their hands brushing against its walls. Creatures chirped and sang, surprised at the sudden intruders. Not many people ever found this cave, and for a special reason.

This was no normal cave. It held dark magic; the kind people thought went extinct thousands of years ago. A few places, like this cave, hung on to its magic, not ready to release it yet. For many years the cave sat untouched, waiting for some unlucky passerby's to explore it's labyrinth of tunnels. Power radiated from it, and by the time Rosalie and Emmett were half way through its maze they could tell they were in trouble.

"Something's not right, babe," Rosalie said, blinking in the darkness, "let's turn back."

"Yea, you're right. This place is giving me bad vibes. Bye cave," Emmett turned around and together they walked, looking for a bright light signaling the end. But the light never came.

The cave had tricked them, and guided them even deeper into its maze. They were stuck.

"There's got to be a way out of this thing," Rosalie said, kicking the stone wall angrily. Her boot connected with the wall and a sharp ping! resounded off the walls. Again and again the two pounded at the walls with both hands and feet but nothing budged.

"What do we do now?" Emmett asked. For the first time he was thoroughly worried, and not just for himself. He was worried about Rosalie. He would do anything to get her out, even if it meant he being trapped in this cave forever.

"I don't know Mr. Genius, you tell me!" Rosalie screamed loudly. "You got us into this mess, you get us out!"

Emmett grimaced. She was right; he did force her to go into this stupid cave. They should have stayed at home today. They should have trusted rose's instinct. "I'm sorry, baby."

"You better be! Hell, I don't care. Sorry won't do anything now! Wait," she said suddenly, the dangerous glint in her eyes gone, replaced by joy. "I have my cellphone; we can call Carlisle and Esme! They can come and get us out!" She smiled broadly and ripped a small silver phone from her pocket.

"Do you have service?" Emmett asked, believing this to be too good to be true.

"Surprisingly yes. Four bars, aren't we lucky?" She dialed the number and waited for Carlisle to pick up, which he did on the third ring.

"Hello," Carlisle's voice calmed Emmett. It was a nice break from the irritated screaming he'd been hearing from Rosalie for the past hour.

"Carlisle? Remember that cave Emmett was so excited about? Well, we're stuck and we can't find a way out. The walls won't even crack, and every time we try to retrace out tracks we end up going into another tunnel. Can you help us?"

There was a pause and then, "Of course, were on our way now. Don't move."

"Thanks," she mumbled, shutting the phone.

Emmett smiled and lifted his wife in a bear hug, "yes! We're getting out of this hell hole!"

Rosalie laughed and swatted at him, "put me down you big buffoon!"

Rosalie and Emmett might have thought they were safe, but they were far from it. The cave took the couple's moment of euphoria to release its magic, infecting not only them but all the Cullens.

**OoOoOoO**

"Carlisle, did you feel that?" Esme asked, placing two fingers on her temple. She had been running through the forest one moment and the next moment an immense pain had shot through her skull, stopping her in her tracks.

"Yes," her husband replied from behind her. He too was massaging his head, trying to numb the dying pain.

Esme rushed over to her husband, grabbing his hand and pulling him down to sit next to her. "But Rosalie and Emmett," Carlisle whispered.

"Can wait, I'm not running in this type of-oww!" Esme screamed loudly as another round of pain shuck her mind.

"Esme!" Carlisle grabbed his wife, pulling her into a tight embrace. He bit his lip tightly as his brain withered in agony.

"What's happening?" his wife asked breathlessly, her hands on either side of her head.

"I wish I knew," Carlisle muttered before another bout of pain shot through his mind, sending hi m into darkness.

**OoOoOoO**

"Edward! Please wake up!" Bella screamed, shaking her husband roughly. "You can't leave me! You just can't! Please, please…"

It was no use. Edward wasn't dead but he wasn't conscious. Bella picked him up carefully and, with vampire speed, raced him to their bedroom. She laid his body down on the bed, propping his head up with a pillow.

Bella sat down on the bed next to her husband and tried to clear her head and remember what they had been doing before Edward passed out.

"_You cheater!" Bella said, reaching across the chess board to ruffle her husband's hair lightly._

_He grinned, "You're getting too good, I have to do something to keep up my winning streak!"_

_Bella laughed and pushed the chess board to the side, pulling her husband in for a heated kiss. "You know, Nessie and Jacob are gone for the next three months. We have this place all to ourselves. We can do whatever we want."_

_Edward leaned back, his eyes mischievous. "Yea, but what if Carlisle and Esme walk in on us?" he mused, running his lips over his wife's neck._

_Bella moaned, "We walked in on them one time, remember? They'd be getting even."_

"_Oh God, don't even remind me about that, I'll never be able to look at Esme the same way." He pulled Bella into his lap, slipping his hand under her shirt._

"_Hmm, me neither," Bella chuckled, enjoying the feel of Edward's hands against her bare skin._

"_Or Carlisle," Edward mused, smiling._

"_Who knew they liked that type of stuff," Bella pulled her husband's shirt off, tossing it over her shoulder. "So perfect," she whispered._

_Edward beamed, showing off two rows of pearl white teeth. "All for y-"he started, but was cut off by a sharp shriek that escaped from his chest. He ground his teeth together as Bella got up from her position on the couch._

"_What's wrong?" she asked, her eyes searching for any obvious wounds._

"_My head, it's killing me," he ground out. And then his world turned black and Bella screamed._

Bella gulped as she looked at her unconscious husband. She had absolutely no idea what to do. She thought vampires didn't get sick or have headaches or pass out. She had to call Carlisle; he would know what to do.

She quickly dialed the number, praying he would pick up. If he didn't she'd be hopeless. She had no idea how to treat a vampire suffering from headaches.

"Come on Carlisle…please…"

"You called Carlisle Cullen. I can't come to the phone right now, so please call back or leave a message after the beep."

Bella cursed under her breath, but waited for the beep. "Hey Carlisle, its Bella. Look Edward just passed out and I don't know what the heck to do so please call me back. I'm so worried." She ended the message and tried Esme's number. She also didn't pick up, which was very unlike her. Esme always picked up.

"I'll be right back, Edward," Bella said, giving him a quick kiss on the forehead. "I'm going to get you help."

**OoOoOoO**

The Cullen home was quiet when Bella entered, too quiet. Bella had become accustomed to constant noise, what with her vampire hearing and all, but she heard absolutely nothing as she walked through the house.

"Alice, Alice?" She called, climbing the stairs to the third level. "I know you're here guys, this isn't funny. Jasper?"

Bella was starting to get worried by this time. Alice and Emmett were known pranksters in the Cullen family, but they never went far enough to upset anyone. "Look guys, Edward's in trouble he fainted, Oh my God," Bella cried as she opened the door to Alice and Jasper's bedroom.

There on the floor lay Jasper and Alice, their faces contorted in dream-like pain.

"Alice!" Bella screamed, shaking her sister forcefully. "What's going on?"

But Alice said nothing, her mouth slightly a jar as if she'd been sleeping for hours.

**OoOoOoO**

"What the fuck?" Esme muttered as she sat up, her caramel locks covered in dirt and leaves from lying on the forest floor. "Carlisle?" she asked as she stood up, brushing debris off herself. "What am I wearing? Ick," she inspected her clothes, pulling at the expensive skirt and blouse. "I'm twenty-six, not forty. Carlisle?" she called again, searching the forest for her husband.

She finally found him hunched over a small stream, washing his hair. "What the hell, Carlisle? What type of man just leaves his wife like that?" she snapped, pushing her husband into the water with a little more force then she had intended. His form splashed loudly and he growled lightly.

He huffed and tore off his drenched jacket, throwing it onto the bank. "You know you don't have to always be such a bitch."

She scoffed, crossing her arms, "and you don't always have to be such an idiot."

He frowned and climbed out of the water, "I was going to come back. Do you remember what happened?"

Esme pondered the question for a moment and shook her head. "Not really. I remember running and then I woke up. I don't really remember why I was running…wait we were going to get Rose and Emmett. Remember, they were trapped in that creepy cave?"

Carlisle ran a hand through his damp hair, "oh yea, Emmett was such a dumbass for wanting to explore that thing. I don't know why we cared, Es. They're not our responsibility."

Esme fluffed her hair vainly, "you're right; I mean it's not like we're their parents."

"Exactly," Carlisle grinned devilishly and pulled his wife into a strong embrace. "You look sexy Essie," he purred in her ear, grabbing at her breast.

She laughed, "Yea I'm sure I look so sexy with shit in my hair," her fingers picked aimlessly at the twigs and leaves lodged in her locks.

"You always look sexy," he groaned, sticking his tongue in her mouth forcefully.

**OoOoOoO**

**Love it? Hate it? Both? Please tell me! I love comments, ideas, criticism, anything! Do you want another chapter? If so you really need to tell me. So reviewreviewreview! **

**If this story is continued (which it probably will be) I will post every Sunday.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**OoOoOoO**


	2. Lingerie

**Thanks so much for the reviews! I love you guys! So this is a kinda (really) short chapter, but I hope you guys like it! Bella finally meets the new Alice, Jasper, Carlisle and Esme! Annd if any of you guys have any ideas for the next chapter or for how I should change Alice please tell me. I'm having a lot of trouble with Alice, so help would be much appreciated! **

**DC: Meyer owns characters**

**OoOoOoO**

Bella P.O.V

"What happened, Bella," Alice moaned, sitting up slowly, her arms steadying her shaky form.

"I wish I knew," I murmured as I helped Jasper up. "Do you feel any different?"

Alice shrugged. "Not especially."

For the first time since I had met Alice she seemed sad. Alice had always been the positive energy in the family, and it was odd to see her so solemn. Her head was stooped and her eyes had lost the luster they always seemed to have.

"Are you sure? You look kind of down. I know this is really bizarre, what with everything that's been going on, but you both seem alright, and Carlisle will be here shortly so he can do an examine and make sure you guys check out ok," I said confidently. For the first time today I felt like I actually had the situation under control.

Jasper crossed his arms and scoffed, "When has Carlisle ever known a thing about being a doctor?"

Alice sighed and climbed onto the bed. "He has a point," she said into the pillow.

I shot Jasper an exasperated look, "Are you guys pulling some type of joke on me? Carlisle is a doctor, he has been for centuries," I reminded them. "He has an office and everything, filled to the brim with medical files and such."

Jasper laughed loudly, "Carlisle? You're kidding me, right? I wouldn't trust Carlisle with anyone's life. And if this office is so real, show me," he said rudely. What was wrong with them today? Jasper was always polite and he never talked this much. They must be playing some sort of joke on me.

"Fine, I'll show you right now. It's just down the hall, where it's always been," I opened the door and walked out into the main hallway, Jasper in tow.

I couldn't believe what I saw. This wasn't the Cullen house I've always known and loved, with its simplistic design and open floor plan. The huge windows were gone, replaced by relatively large ornate windows, complete with heavy expensive red drapes. The walls, which were once a blank white, were now covered in beautiful murals, depicting scenes from Greek and Roman culture. Large gold flower pots sitting on luxurious black tables lined the hall, large bouquets of camellias sprouting from their depths. The floor sported an impressive red carpet, gold swirls winding their way around its perimeter. Majestic wooden doors with undersized golden door knobs flew to the ceiling, which seemed much higher then I remembered. A bright crystal chandelier hung delicately, sending the hallway into a warm glow. The whole place reminded me of something I had seen in the movie Titanic, overdone, gaudy, but stylish at the same time. It sure was the exact opposite of the modern abode I had once known.

"How did Esme renovate so quickly?" I asked suspiciously. Surely I would have heard her, and even with vampire speed this was a lot to accomplish in half an hour.

Jasper chuckled, slapping me on the back ungracefully, "Esme decorate? Yea right. She's too bitchy and impatient for that."

I'm sure my mouth hit the ground when he said that. Esme bitchy? She was the nicest person I knew! "What are you talking about Jasper? She's an angel, and she's your mother! You shouldn't talk about her that way. That's very unlike you," I crossed my arms and gave him a death stare, which he returned easily.

"Mother? Maybe in a million years. And she's called me much worst, trust me. Angel?" he laughed again, "actually never in a million years. How about you try calling her mom and see what she does, huh?"

I blinked quickly. What was wrong with my family? "Fine I will! I do it all the time." I thought for a moment, "If Esme didn't do this, then who did?"

Jasper gave me a cocky grin, "Emmett and I of course."

Shock fell across my face again, "Emmett decorates?"

Jasper shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, "He's not nearly as good as me, but yea he does. You feeling alright Bells?"

Quite honestly I wasn't feeling 'alright.' If I wasn't a vampire I'm sure I would have passed out or thrown up by now, and even as a vampire I was starting to feel a little queasy. I wrapped my arms around my stomach and smiled at Jasper. They were probably just playing some type of trick on me. I'm sure Carlisle and Esme won't go along with it when they get back. I glanced around the hall, gold reflecting off of nearly every surface. Esme would be thoroughly pissed.

I decided to play along with their joke, show them that I could have fun too. "Yea, I'm feeling fine, just fine. Well, if that room isn't Carlisle's office, then what is it?" I asked, pointing at the door that I had always associated with Carlisle.

Jasper snickered beside me, "Esme would kill me if I went in there again, you know her."

"Just tell me," I persisted, walking over to the door and testing the handle. Locked.

"Well," he started, "you know what's in there, do I really have to show you?"

I frowned, "Just tell me!"

His face relaxed and he put his hands up in surrender, "will do Queen Isabella, here's the key." His hand dived into his pant pocket and pulled out a shiny gold key. He placed it in my hand.

"Fine, if you won't tell me I'll just go in," I muttered, curiosity getting the best of me. I slipped the gaudy key into the slot, and turned it carefully. The successful click sounded and I opened the door, floored by what I saw.

"She's going to be pissed, "Jasper muttered behind me, but I ignored him.

The first thing I noticed was the walls. All four of them were hot pink and covered in mirrors. Another large chandelier hung from the ceiling, hundreds of crystals hanging almost precariously. A large ornate and golden mirror stood in the middle of the room, a vanity and a ribbon-backed chair nearby. The floor was a tasteful hardwood with a dark stain and the ceiling had a gorgeous rose mosaic on it.

Then I noticed what I really wished I hadn't. Racks and racks and racks of lacy lingerie lined the walls, making the room seem like some sort Victoria's Secret showroom. Some racks were neat while others were messy, a panty thrown here, a bra thrown there. There were corsets, negligees, and even some of the weird stuff I didn't think existed. Hundreds, maybe even thousands, of pieces of lacy and sheer fabric were situated in this room, and I didn't even think Esme liked lingerie. No, wait, I was sure she didn't. She told me a few years back, while we were shopping with Alice and Rose.

"_Why do you insist I wear lingerie for Edward, but you never make the other girls buy any?" I asked Alice as she handed me another lacy garment to try on._

_ "Well rose buys it herself, and Esme doesn't wear any," Alice said simply._

_ I eyes Esme suspiciously and she just smiled sweetly. "I really didn't grow up in a time where these types of things were appropriate." She said, picking up a sheer red bra, "neither did Carlisle. It's just not our thing."_

It didn't seem like that anymore, it seemed very much her thing.

Wait, did I really believe this? This was all just a big joke. I bet Alice did this last night; she's probably laughing her head off right now. This was all just a prank. A very good, very complicated, joke.

"How do I know this is all Esme's?" I asked Jasper, raising an eyebrow. I would find a flaw in their plan, and then the joke will be on them.

He leered, "you saw her buy most of them. And she has Rosalie sew an 'E' in all of them, see?" he said, picking up a stray lavender colored panty. Sure enough, there it was, all pink and fancy. They had truly outdone themselves this time.

"Carlisle's going to be mad that you spent so much money on this. And that you ruined his study. Wait, what did you guys do to Esme's study? And yours?" I glanced at another door on the west wall of the room.

"The other two rooms?" he asked, following my line of sight. "I'll show you those later, because right now you're in trouble."

"What are you talking about?" I asked as he turned around to leave.

"Listen," he whispered, and I did.

I heard the door open and shut, and then muffled voices. People climbing up the stairs and talking. I barely even had time to register who it was before I was face to face with my adoptive mother, her jaw clenched.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked, her voice clipped. Carlisle sneered behind her, at me or her I don't know.

"Esme, oh I'm so happy to see you!" I cried, throwing my arms around her neck, pulling her off balance. I felt her body tense and before I knew what was going on I was flying through the air, my body colliding with the wall roughly. I wasn't in pain, but I was surprised. Esme would never do that, was she in on this joke too?

I could hear Carlisle laughing and I looked up. Esme's ruby red lips were pulled tight in a grimace and her arms were crossed. I noticed Jasper smiling cockily behind her.

"Get. Out. Now," she said slowly, her eyes holding a dangerous glint.

"Please tell me what is going on guys! Is this some type of joke? If it is you got me! Can we call it quits?" I said, standing up. My mind was trying to wrap itself around what just happened. Esme was never mean; she was the nicest person I knew.

"Oh God," Esme said, inspecting her nails, "what did you do to her Jasper?"

Jasper leaned against the door frame and smiled darkly, "nothing, she's been acting like this all day."

Esme sighed dramatically and wrapped an arm around her husband, "well, I don't care what happened to you Bella, get out of my room before I tear your head off, ok?" she said, widening her eyes for effect.

I wasn't going to give up that easily. "Just a few years ago you told me you hated this kind of stuff Esme. What happened?" I asked incredulously.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Esme demanded, causing Carlisle to chuckle again. He was really starting to get on my nerves. They all were.

"You know Esme, Bella," Carlisle said as he pulled his wife in for a heated kiss that made me turn my head. I'd only seen Carlisle and Esme kiss a few times, and they were always chaste kisses that were sweet and innocent. This was anything but.

Esme broke away and rolled her eyes like a teenager, "I've always had immaculate taste for bedroom items," her voice was casual as if they were talking about dishware.

"No, I'm positive you didn't just a couple days ago. I swear you told me. Why are you laughing, Carlisle?" my anger boiled over as I snapped at the older vampire.

"Something must be wrong with you Bella, you never act like this," Carlisle said with mock concern.

"Something's wrong with you! What happened to the compassionate Dr. Cullen I once knew, or the loving Esme, whom I'm sure, would be embarrassed in this same situation?"

Esme flicked a strand of hair behind her ear aimlessly, revealing flashy diamond studs. "Embarrassed? Like its any secret, I just don't want any grubby hands touching my expensive collection. Its almost priceless."

Carlisle scoffed, "yea, almost. I had to pay for all that shit."

I'd never known Carlisle to use vulgar language. He and Esme were usually the ones telling the family not to use 'filthy language.'

"Like you should be complaining! I bought all that stuff for you," she almost sounded sweet when she said that, like the old Esme.

"Ok, Esme. We all know you just like looking at yourself," Jasper jeered, earning him a slap from Esme.

"I am not vain," she said. Carlisle raised his eyebrow and Esme pursed her lips. "Well, sometimes…" she started.

"You mean all the time…" a recovered Jasper said, earning him another slap.

"I don't give a shit if I'm vain. So I'm beautiful, I should appreciate it, should I not!" She said, throwing her hands up dramatically.

"Of course, baby," Carlisle cooed lightly.

She pushed him away and held out a hand. I couldn't help but notice her nails were a bright shade of red and much longer than normal. Apparently the new Esme likes manicures.

"What?" I asked as she opened and closed her palm a few times for effect.

"Just give me the damn key," she said, obviously annoyed. I complied, placing the key in her hand. "And," she turned to Jasper, "if you ever steal it again and try to take pictures of me like the last time there will be a hell of a lot of consequences to face. Got it?"

Jasper gulped, "course Esme."

Jasper spied on Esme? What? He would never do that, he loves Alice. Once Carlisle and Esme had left, shutting their bedroom door behind them loudly, I asked him about it.

"Well, I am a man after all, and don't get me wrong I love Alice more than life itself but no matter how bitchy Esme's got the best bod in the family. Plus it's always funny when she blows up like that," he explained.

Good Lord, how could Jasper think of Esme like that? She's his mother, or like it. But I guess here she isn't.

I shook my head, hoping it would help me clear my thoughts. It didn't. "I need to go see Edward," I said quietly, turning to leave.

Jasper grabbed my shoulder and turned me around roughly, "keep your head up, Bells. I think you sometimes forget that we aren't the family you wish you had married into."

I glanced up at his face and gasped, his eyes had changed from the normal topaz color to a deep red. I dived towards a mirror and inhaled a quick breath because my eyes were red too.

**OoOoOo**

**I need ideas! Please! No ideas are stupid, trust me, but this story is giving me the worst writers block in the history of writers blocks so please give me some ideas! **


	3. The Past

**New Chapter already? Do I do anything else besides write fanfiction? Oh well, your guys awesome reviews make it all worth while!**

**Thanks again to anyone who reviewed, they make my day!**

**And this chapter is still rated teen, but I'd say probably 15 and up, so if you're 14 or 13 I'm sorry, gotta come back in a year. Don't say I didn't warn you…Carlisle and Esme can get pretty frisky sometimes. They tell me to write them like that! It's no use fighting a pissy Esme.**

**DC: I don't own twilight**

**OoOoOoO**

Edward P.O.V

A sharp scream woke me from my slumber, startling me so bad I fell right off the bed. I ungracefully grabbed at the sheets, trying to save myself, but I only succeeded in pulling the blankets off the bed.

I stood up quickly, feeling a little sheepish. "Bella or Rose will have to make that later," I muttered, glancing at the distressed bed before going to the living room.

I plopped down on the leather couch and turned on the TV, flipping through the channels aimlessly. I heard more screams and yelling coming from the main house. Sounded like Bella.

"She can handle it," I said to myself as I settled on a channel. "She's tough."

As I watched the Bachelor my mind wandered to what I was doing before I sat down. Was I sleeping? No, vampires can't sleep. My mind felt a little fuzzy, and I decided to drop it. No need to worry about it, I'm ok and that's all that matters.

I heard more screaming coming from the house, this time with my ears and my mind.

_What the hell is wrong with her now? _It was Esme; she was probably talking about Bella. She never really liked the girl.

_God if that girl interrupts us one more time I swear I'll throw her out that window myself. _Definitely Carlisle. There wasn't a more sex-driven man in the family then Carlisle Cullen.

_She's ruining the décor with her outburst! _Jasper. It's surprising how such a perverted man could care so much about decorations.

_She needs to leave. It's getting too loud in here. _Alice. Poor girl was too shy to even leave her room on most days, and I'm sure all the havoc was causing her a lot of stress.

Then I heard a few more screams, mostly from Esme.

"What the fuck is your problem?" the self-absorbed vampire shrieked. "First you go into _my _room and touch _my_ stuff and now you're ripping open our bedroom door while we're trying to have sex! Get out! Now!"

Oh Bella, why did you have to do that? Esme will be pissed off for weeks now!

Footsteps followed Esme's outburst, fast footsteps. Bella's scent hit me like wave as she raced into the cottage, her eyes glistening with venom tears.

"Edward!" she cried, hugging me tightly. I gave her a tight smile and tried to pry her off. The Cullens didn't do hugs. Well except for Rosalie, and sometimes Jasper. "I thought I lost you! Can you please tell me what's going on; I've never seen Esme so mad before. And everyone's eyes are red! Even mine! And what's with the house? It's all different. And Jasper's out-going and Alice is all sad and everything. And don't even get me started on Carlisle and Esme," she said, taking an unneeded breath.

I took the opportunity and raised a finger to her lips, quieting her endless rambling. "Did you go into Esme's closet?" I asked, raising one of my eyebrows.

Bella's eyes widened, "yea, I guess, but it used to be Carlisle's office, remember? And Esme hates lingerie, I swear she told me! And Emmett and Jasper don't decorate…please tell me this is all just a big joke Edward, please," she pulled me into another hug and stared at me awaiting an answer.

Bella and I were close, but we weren't this close. We didn't talk about our feelings, or any of that shit. We loved each other very much, but I wasn't a sensitive man.

I took a shaky breath and said, "Bells are you feeling alright? Did you hit your head or something?" I asked awkwardly, trying to comfort her best I could. Truth be told I really didn't care what her problem was, we had Rosie to sort out problems, that's why Esme changed her, so she wouldn't have to do the hard stuff.

'No, I didn't Edward, please just listen to me," she pleaded, grabbing my face in her hand and redirecting it so I was facing her. "This is not the same family I had this morning. Not even close. That isn't even the same house, and this isn't even the same cottage!"

"Maybe you need to just relax, here I'll go get Rosalie," I said, getting up to retrieve the phone.

She grabbed my pant leg, pulling me down. "You're not going anywhere until I figure out what happened to my family."

"What's there to figure out, Bella? You've been living with us for years!"

She shook her head, "no, I haven't. You passed out today, Edward. Alice and Jasper did too. When they woke up they began acting different, like their exact opposites. Esme and Carlisle were probably the worst though, they were so mean!" she said incredulously.

I rolled my eyes. Did I really believe her? I had no idea what she was talking about yet I did kind of sort of believe her. Out of the whole family Bella was the most honest. She was telling the truth, even if I didn't want to believe it.

She pulled me into another hug and I blatantly pushed her off. "What's with you guys and hugs?" she mumbled. I sighed under my breath.

"Take down your shield Bells. You know, so I can read your mind," I said as she shot me a questioning gaze.

She nodded and shut her eyes. I felt the shield pull back and her onslaught of thoughts hit me.

"This is what the house looked like before," she murmured as a picture of a great big white house materialized in her mind.

"And this is what it looked like inside," I was guided into the house by her mind and welcomed by two huge windows on the south side of the house.

"It was very modern. All new and clean. Esme decorated everything. It's nice isn't it?" she asked as her thoughts took me upstairs.

"Very," I said, amazed at what the house could have looked like.

"And this is what the family looked like," she said, the Cullen clan materializing in her mind.

"Rosalie was rather vain, but protective. Emmett was such a goof ball, always cracking jokes and never taking anything serious. Alice was very social, always shopping and looking for fun. She was my best friend. And Jasper, oh Jasper, he was so quiet, I've never heard him talk as much as he did today. And he wasn't an overly affectionate person either. Carlisle was a doctor, and a great one at that. He started the vegetarian diet where we only killed animals. He was very compassionate and loving. We treated him as a father. Esme was also loving, even more so than Carlisle. She was the nicest person I had ever met. She had strong maternal extinct so we considered her our mother," she finished, her shield coming up and blocking the images. "That's what life was like before all this happened," she said, waving her arms around.

'It's so odd how you described them. I truly believe you by the way. I didn't at first, but when you showed me their faces and everything…well let's just say they look nothing like they did then. It's hard to accept it though. My memories from this life are all I have. But something about the images you showed me…they seemed so real, like I _lived _them in another life, which I suppose I did," I said , smiling.

"So are everyone's pasts different?" Bella asked hesitantly, as if she wasn't sure whether the question was appropriate.

I leaned back on the sofa and kicked my feet onto the coffee table, tucking my hands behind my head. It was story time. "Well, Bells, it all started in London, England in the 1600's. Carlisle was the bastard of a local prostitute, a very lowly position in society at the time. He heard about the vampires through stories told around campfires late at night. Carlisle thought he ruled the city, thought he could do and say whatever he wanted to. In the end he was very wrong. Carlisle, being the complete brat he was and is, called the pastor of the town some very low and vulgar names, which of course got him in a lot of trouble. The next night the pastor took Carlisle on a vampire hunt, intending to use him as bait. Carlisle tried to run away, but the vampires were fast and caught him. They bit him and left him to die. But he didn't, he changed and once he was transformed he went on a rampage, slaughtering many citizens in the city.

"The Volturi drove him out, but had sympathy for him and didn't kill him. He journeyed the globe for many years, preying on human girls, he is Carlisle after all, and feeding off of humans. And then he found me, in the outskirts of Chicago. I had and have quite a big mouth and I had been telling off some guys at my school. I told them that I was messing around with their girlfriends; you know just stuff to piss them off. Well, they dragged me into an alley behind the old drugstore and beat the ever loving shit out of me. I mean I was in bad shape, black and blue all over. Carlisle smelled the blood and sought me out thinking I would be an easy meal. Before he bent down to drink I called him a few inappropriate things. I was pissed because I was dying and I was hysterical. I reminded Carlisle of himself so instead of killing me he changed me.

"I don't know who I was before Bella, but in this life I'm an ass with a capitol 'a'. I was a jerk to Carlisle and he was a jerk right back. We lived a few years like that, neither of us growing very close to each other.

"And then there was Esme. Dear God, I'll never know what we did to get her!" I chuckled and Bella smiled a bit. "Esme grew up in Ohio where she married very young. She was promiscuous young lady and got herself knocked up at the tender age of nineteen. The man was an older guy who lived on the outskirts of town. He was known for using young women, but he was very rich and Esme, being the selfish whore she is and was, gave in. So her parents looked for a good suitor but it was hard for them to find one, since Esme was pregnant. Finally the Platts found Esme's husband in a passerby from New York. He too was older than her, but he was much more handsome then the man who knocked her up. He was also, to Esme's delight, much richer than the other man. He owned a large company in the heart of Manhattan where he lived in an expensive and lavish apartment. Esme got married and moved in with him within a week's time and a few months later she gave birth to a healthy baby boy. Esme had always despised children and never wanted one of her own so when she had the baby she hired a nanny to take care of him for her. Esme lived the high life in New York. She had everything she would ever need and anything she would ever want. Money flowed like an endless fountain and she lived like a queen. She gave birth to three more children before her twenty-six birthday, one of which died shortly after he was born. Esme was a very beautiful girl and was a treasured prize within the New York community, so when Carlisle and I moved to town she was number one on Carlisle's 'to bang' list.

"He caught her coming home one day and tried to charm her as he did his other victims. Much to his dismay Esme was a harder catch and wouldn't give in so easily. She seduced him, catching him in her spell easily. He followed Esme around like a puppy for weeks until her husband caught wind of it. He was so angry at her for cheating on him, which she had done before anyway, that he stabbed her in her sleep. When Carlisle came to check on Esme in the middle of the night and saw a knife sticking out of her gut he changed her. When she awoke from the transformation she found out she had acquired a gift of sorts, she was a kind of like a siren."

Bella's gave me a questioning look, "what do you mean?"

"You know when you become a vampire your traits are magnified, right?" she nodded. "Well Esme was such a charmer when she was human that it carried over to her vampire life. Now with just the sound of her voice she can make any man do whatever she want's. Quite a dangerous talent if you knew this Esme," I explained.

"I'm sure," she said quietly. I continued my story, turning on my 'commanding voice.'

"They fell deeply in love, though they argued more than I thought a happily married couple could." I stopped and chuckled again. Bella's face told me she was very surprised by what I was telling her. I just slapped her on the back playfully and continued my story, "They got married and honeymooned for six months on Isle Esme. I know they love each other very much but I mean seriously, six months! Geez. Anyway, a few years later Esme found Rosalie Hale dying from a gunshot wound in a hotel bathroom.

"Rosalie was born to a very poor family, and when Rosalie was very young she was forced to move to Rochester, New York and work as a maid to help pay her family's bills. Rosalie had a kind soul and was happy to help anyway that she could. She adjusted to the job easily, and learned to love it quickly. Then one night a man rented a room with his girlfriend, who at the time of the check-in was crying hysterically. Rosalie heard noises coming from the room all night, screams and cries. Rosalie was a scared girl and didn't have much of a backbone so she didn't dare go up to the room until it was her cleaning time. When she finally built of the courage to go in to the room to make the beds she was floored by what she saw. The girl she had seen the night before was dead, lying in a pool of her own blood. The man spotted her and before she could run her shot her.

"Esme, who had run out to get a pack of cigarettes, smelled the blood and decided to investigate. For some odd and bizarre reason that is beyond any of us Esme felt, probably for the first time in her spoiled life, pity. She pitied the young girl in the maid's uniform. Oh, by the way Rosalie is much prettier in your thoughts then she is in this life. And Esme's not near as pretty in your mind as she is here. I suppose the roles were switched," I shrugged and Bella nodded.

"So Esme brought her to Carlisle who, after much persuading from Esme, turned the young girl into a vampire. Rosalie accepted her new life easily and became somewhat of Esme's servant. See, in Rose's mind Esme saved her life and for the rest of her life she will be trying to repay that debt.

"Rosalie rescued Emmett from a burning train in Seattle a couple years later. He had been on his way to a business conference when the engine just exploded. Rosalie was just trying to save people, but once she set her eyes on Emmett she fell in love. Esme had been the only one available when Rosalie brought him home close to death, so she changed him for her, once again out of a sudden and extremely rare moment of pity.

"Jasper and Alice joined much later. Jasper was a human during the civil war, but ran away before the confederates could get him to join the army. He ran away to California and spent years performing plays for huge audiences. He was the best of the best that Jasper Whitlock. He was changed by a stray vampire hiding in the sewers below the city. The change effected Jasper's acting and singing abilities very little and he continued doing what he loved until he met Alice. Alice had been living in an asylum her whole life, her mother giving her to the hospital right after she was born. The doctors noticed how her eyes would dart back and forth sometimes, as if she were watching something that wasn't really there. She would talk about things before they would even happen. And so Alice was cursed to live her childhood in a cell where she became miserable. She never learned how to interact with humans, resulting in her extreme shyness. Jasper had been with a traveling show when he spotted the little girl staring out her window at him. He thought she was cute so he broke her out of the asylum and changed her. They fell in love shortly after and married in a very small ceremony, due to Alice's shyness. Jasper met Rosalie and she persuaded the two to join the Cullen clan.

"And, then I met you, in Forks High school. I charmed you just like Carlisle taught me to, and I got you wrapped around my finger quicker than I thought possible. You fell pretty hard for me," I said, cockily. Why wouldn't she fall in love with me? "I wanted to change you so badly, but you said you wanted to stay human until you absolutely had to be turned. So we got married and went on an appropriate-length honeymoon, where you got pregnant. You almost died giving birth to Nessie, but you pulled through. I of course wasn't there; you know how I am with those sorts of things. And Rosie hates babies more than Esme does so she wouldn't help. And Carlisle wouldn't help because he's Carlisle, and Alice wouldn't help because she wouldn't leave her room so in the end Emmett and Jasper delivered your baby."

Bella blinked a few times, consuming all the information, "wow. Didn't see that one coming. Did Jacob imprint on Nessie?" she asked.

"Oh yea, that wolf thing, yea he did. They're away right now. Moved out a year ago. Said they couldn't stand Carlisle and Esme, hell I don't blame them," I said, laughing.

"This is so much to take in. I don't know what to do, Edward. How are we going to get everyone back to normal?" she asked naively.

I shrugged and looked back at the TV. "I'm fine with my life here to be honest. I can be an ass and no one cares, I doubt I can do that in the other life."

Bella gave me a quizzical look, "you've got to be kidding me! We have to get you all back, please Edward! I need you, I can't do this alone."

I sighed nd turned to face her, "look, bells honey, how bout' you live in this life for two weeks and then if you don't like it we'll get to the bottom of it and do something about it. It's really not that bad, you know once you get used to it. Just one thing, act normal. Don't try to get them to understand what you're talking about because they won't understand. Trust me, if it weren't for your thoughts I wouldn't believe you either. Now run off, my shows on."

Esme P.O.V

"Take me shopping," I said as Carlisle lazily drew circles on my bare stomach.

"Anything you want, baby," Carlisle said, rubbing my breast and making me moan. I pushed his hand away and sat up.

"Where's Rosalie? She always goes shopping with me, to hold the bags and such." I clucked my tongue impatiently and Carlisle laughed behind me.

"I think I hear her now, you better get decent," Carlisle warned, throwing me a silk robe which I slid on easily.

I heard someone rap on the door, "Esme, its Rosalie."

"Come in," I said, throwing the covers over my husband before Rosalie entered. She smiled gratefully and Carlisle shot me a smug grin.

"Alice told me you were planning on going shopping, do you want me to come?" she asked, as if she were a child asking for candy.

I inspected my long nails carefully, and noticed a slight chip on my left ring finger. Instinctively I got up and went to my vanity, reaching for the correct shade of polish to cover up the small chip. Rosalie stood by the door, eagerly awaiting my answer.

I painted the red lacquer on the nail and pulled my hand back to scrutinize my work. Perfect. "Of course dear, you always come. No need to ask."

Rosalie nodded quickly, "You've always been so kind to me," I smiled lightly, almost flattered by her words.

"Oh, I also put a few new pieces in your room yesterday, the 'E' is already sewn on them both," she said, clasping her hands in front of her. Always so polite.

I sat down at the vanity, looking into the reflection and admiring my mussed hair. "Thank you Rosalie. Can you go and get Bella for me? I need to talk to her," she smiled and nodded, leaving the room as quickly as she had arrived.

"What are you going to do to her, Essie?" Carlisle asked as he pulled on a robe.

I smiled at his nickname for me. Only Carlisle could call me that and get away with it. "What do you think I'll say to her?"

Carlisle placed his finger on his chin and mocked deep thought. "I know!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up, "you're going to tell her how much you love her and how she can go into your room anytime she want's, right?"

I laughed lightly and put another coat of lipstick on, my lips looking perfectly pouty. "That sounds just like me, doesn't it?" I said sarcastically as I curled my eyelashes.

Carlisle grinned and pulled me into a kiss, causing me to drop my eyeliner. I pulled away and said, "Carlisle, you bad boy, I just put on lipstick and now it's all over you," I smeared a bit of it for effect.

Carlisle's eyes widened and he rushed to the bathroom to wash it off. As much as he won't admit it, he's vain too.

I turned back to my reflection, admiring my youthful beauty. Even after all these years I'm still the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Not many women can say that, now can they?

I heard a light knock at the door, "It's Bella, Esme. Rosalie said you..er..wanted to talk to me?"

"Come in dear," I said loud enough for her to hear me through the thick wooden door. I couldn't help but notice her eyes widen in amazement when she entered the room. Whether she was amazed by the décor or me, I wasn't sure.

"You look really great, Esme," Bella said awkwardly as she gazed at the canopy bed.

"No need for flattery," I said, waving my hand. "It won't do you any good now."

I heard Bella gulp and step back a few feet, "about what happened earlier today, I'm really sorry. I've been feeling a little off lately, but it's no excuse for what I did to you Esme. I'm sorry." Bella hung her head like a child.

I smacked my lips together and stood up, "I'm not your mommy, Bella. I never was I never will be. I'm older then you thus making me your superior, but I'm not your mommy. I'm not fair and I won't hold your hand, so don't try to. I could of course never give punishments, just let everyone live wild and live like common animals. But I don't. I give punishments where they are needed. I've never had a soft spot in my heart for you, Bella, but you've never truly done anything to upset me. Until now. See the boys are easy to keep on a leash, they do whatever I say, girls are much harder to tame. They take time and patience, neither of which I have, which is why I have Rosalie to teach you your punishments. Oh, and by the way, you're coming with me today on my trip to Seattle. As you know my shopping trips are never one person jobs. Rosalie, can you come here, dear?"

Rosalie popped her head around the door frame, "Yes Esme?"

"Bella has lingerie and bathroom duty for a month; would you kindly teach her how to do both for me? Oh, and make sure she's ready in two hours for outing. Thank you Rosalie," I said, not bothering to await a reply.

"Of course Esme, come on Bella," Rosalie said, grabbing Bella's arm and pulling her out of the room. The door shut quietly behind her, leaving me in peace once again.

Carlisle came back out from the bathroom, and towel wrapped around his neck. "Bathroom and lingerie duty? You must be pretty pissed, Essie," he said with a grin. He pulled the towel out from behind his neck and hit me across the rear with it. I squirmed at the feeling and felt Carlisle's lips against my own. His kisses were hard and needy, making me push him away.

He huffed, "like I didn't hear you whimper like a horny teenager just then. Come on Essie," he cooed against my neck.

I rolled my eyes, pushing him away from my body, "hardly. I don't have time right now, plus I just spent three hours with you. Is that not enough for you?"

He growled lowly, "I never can get enough of you, my Esme," he said.

I sighed and turned on the charm that I knew no man could resist, "how about you go pick out something from my room and I'll wear that under my clothes and you can dream up whatever fantasies you want, how does that sound, honey?" I asked, sweetly.

He was gone before the last word left my mouth.

**OoOoOoO**

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	4. Embroidery and Trench Coats

**The awaited shopping trip is here! Read and Review! Hope you enjoy! And a huge thanks to all my awesome reviewers, I'd be nothing without you guys!**

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Rosalie P.O.V

"She treats you like a slave," Bella said as we walked into me and Emmett's room.

I laughed lightly and shook my head, "No she doesn't. She saved my life Bella, and gave me this wondrous life. I owe her nothing but gratitude and I am honored to help her in any way possible."

Bella eyed me suspiciously, but dropped the topic. "So what do I have to do?" she asked, glancing around the room.

My bedroom was nothing compared to Carlisle and Esme's, I much prefer the simpler designs. I guided her over to my closet, and opened the door slowly.

"This is where I keep all my cleaning supplies, and sewing machine and things of that sort," I said, pulling her into the closet and turning on the light.

"So you're usually in charge of cleaning? Not Esme?" she asked quietly.

I giggled, "Esme clean? Come on now, Bella, you've been in this family long enough to understand its basic foundation," I leaned down and plucked a black corset from the shelf. "You're on lingerie duty which means you'll be sewing the 'E's' on all of Esme's lingerie for a month," I tossed the corset onto the table.

Bella shrugged, "that's not that bad, I mean she can't buy that much stuff, right?"

I muffled a snort, "you've gone shopping with Esme before, you know how much she can buy. Plus she's always buying new to replace the old. A truly endless cycle if there ever was one." Esme could spend money faster than I thought possible. Stores worship her presence, and other women envy her. It's good thing her husband is a wealthy lawyer and business owner or we would all be broke.

"Oh, great," Bella said sarcastically. "What's bathroom duty?" she asked, looking at the mop and broom in the corner suspiciously.

I flashed her a smile, "It's not that bad, really," I lied. It was the worst job in the house. "You just have to clean out Carlisle and Esme's bathroom." The bathroom itself was huge, and the cabinets and drawers were always filled to the brim with stuff. It took days to clean out the entire thing, and then you had to clean the shower, tub and sinks.

"That shouldn't be too hard," Bella said, obviously pleased with herself. "I thought I'd get worse jobs than those."

"And I'll help you with everything," I promised, feeling pity for the girl. "Do you know how to do embroidery?"

Bella shook her head quickly and I sighed. "Here, sit down and I'll teach you."

It took a little over half an hour to get Bella at a sufficient sewing rate. She wasn't the best, but it would do. Esme never checked each one anyway.

"Is Alice going to Seattle with us?" Bella asked as she tied off a piece of pink string.

I laughed at her, "are you joking, Bella? Alice never leaves the house, let alone to go shopping. You know how much she hates fashion!"

I saw Bella's jaw drop just a bit, and I raised an eyebrow. "Do you feel alright? If you don't I can tell Esme that you'll go shopping with her next time. I'm sure she would understand." I knew Esme wouldn't, but I really liked Bella and I wanted her to be ok. "You've been acting very strange lately."

Bella rubbed the sides of her head for a moment before answering, "I'm fine, really I am. I can go, it's no problem."

I could tell it was a problem, but I dropped it. I never liked getting in trouble with Esme and though I would do it for Bella, I would first try to avoid it at all costs. My mind wandered for a few minutes, the hypnotic sound of the sewing machine pulling me in and out of reality. I thought of Emmett, and how long he'd been away. He never seemed to be home anymore, always away on business of some sort. That's all Emmett cares about, business. I've only seen the man smile and laugh a few times. He always seems so sad, or angry. I wish I could help him, but he never lets me in. I know he loves me, but I wish he would show it more often.

"Earth to Rosalie, you there?" Bella asked, waving a hand in front of my face annoyingly. I threw myself out of my daze, and looked at what Bella had accomplished.

"Not bad for a newbie," I smiled sweetly and she returned it without hesitation.

She turned off the sewing machine and stood up, offering me a hand. "We should probably go get dressed, we're leaving soon."

I shifted uncomfortably, "Are you sure you're up to it Bella? You've been saying some weird stuff today…"

She laughed, "Yea, I know, but I'm feeling much better. Plus, I want to get this out of the way. I've never been one to avoid my problems," her tone was almost cocky and it reminded me of her husband.

I ushered her out of the closet, closing it behind me securely. Bella thanked me and left, running to her cottage in the woods.

I put on a dab of makeup and a simple blouse and skirt. Esme always dresses flashy and young, but I like to think I have a more mature style. She is older than me, but I really do feel more mature then her. In my eyes she's a child that needs looking after.

I flitted over to Carlisle and Esme's door, giving it a slight knock. Carlisle opened it, looking fashionable as ever in black slacks and a button up shirt. A Rolex watch stuck out below the sleeve and I could smell Clive Christian No.1 cologne wafting from his skin. He wasn't nearly as big of a spender as his wife, but he does enjoy the finer things in life.

His eyes raked over my body and I stood nervously. Neither Esme nor Carlisle is ever ashamed to look hungrily at people of the opposite sex, and neither of them ever get mad over it. It was just the ways things were, I suppose. I don't think they ever actually cheat on each other, but they do look quite often.

"You look lovely as always," he said, opening the door wide, and welcoming me in. I barely caught the subtle note of sarcasm in his voice. I chose to ignore it.

Esme smiled coldly as I walked in, her red eyes filled with ice. She was combing her hair with a diamond plated brush, her caramel waves looking perfectly styled. Her dress was a dark blue number with a low-cut neckline and no sleeves. It came up about mid-thigh and had a sleek design. I knew it was brand new, I saw her buy it a few weeks ago, mere days after it came off the runway. She shrugged on a jacket (since it was still April) and stepped into a pair of YSL beige pumps that looked incredibly hard to stand in. She fluffed her hair one more time and slid on a necklace and a few rings. Just thinking of the prices for all these items made my head spin. I knew the shoes alone cost $765, and the necklace cost $1,895. Most the time she wouldn't even ask for the price, just hand over a credit card and grab the item.

Carlisle smiled at his wife and wrapped an arm around her waist suggestively. He whispered something in her ear that made her laugh and kissed her on the cheek as he handed her a purse. "You look delicious," he purred, his eyes raking her body. Esme smiled, flattered by his show of worship.

"Where's Bella?" she asked, sliding the Versace bag into the crook of her elbow.

"She's getting ready, she'll be here in just a second," I said, yelling at Edward mentally to get his wife down here now.

"Well she better get her ass down here in the next five seconds," she said, clicking her fingers nails impatiently.

"I'm sure she will be," I laughed nervously, trying to stall time.

I heard the back door open downstairs and two sets of feet rush upstairs. Edward came in first, wrapping his arms around Esme. "Sorry we're late, mom, I had to talk to Bella about something," he said, tightening his grip on the frazzled woman.

I heard Carlisle chuckling and Esme shot him a look of strong distaste. "What the fuck are you doing, Edward?" she cried, trying to pry the boy off without breaking a nail.

"I just love you so much, mom," he exclaimed, kissing her on the cheek loudly. I'm pretty sure Carlisle was on the floor laughing now.

"Edward!" Esme fumed, giving him a good shove. Lucky for him he was much stronger than Esme. "Don't call me your mom, and don't ever hug me or I'll have Carlisle throw your ass all the way to Canada," she growled as I pulled Edward off of her.

He too was having a laughing fit, which I found very distasteful. Esme raced over to a mirror, making sure everything looked alright.

I glanced over at Edward and gave him a disapproving glare. "What's wrong with you and Bella today?" I asked, looking from him to Bella.

Edward grinned at Bella widely, "Let's just say it's an inside joke. You wouldn't even believe it Rosie," he said, making Bella smile slightly.

I rolled my eyes at them, "I'm sure I wouldn't, but I would believe that you just gave us a pissed off Esme for the rest of the day. So thanks," I said sarcastically. I wasn't usually this mean, but Edward and Bella were really making me angry today.

"Do you mind if I tag along, Esme?" Edward asked kindly, as if he were the perfect son.

Esme grimaced and waved her hands, "I don't give a flying fuck what the hell you do Edward Cullen, just don't do that again," she warned.

Carlisle, who had finally regained his composure, grabbed a set of keys and ran down the steps, his wife in tow. "What car are we taking?" Bella asked, pulling at her shirt tensely.

"The Cadillac, it's the only one that has enough seats," Edward said, as he steered us out the door.

Carlisle P.O.V

I was pretty horny when I sat down in the driver's seat of the Cadillac. I shifted uncomfortably and Esme eyed me suspiciously.

"Having problems?" she guessed as she searched her purse for her Virginia Slims.

"Actually I'm doing just fine," I lied smoothly, starting the engine.

"I'm sure you are, Carlisle Cullen," she said, putting the cigarette between her ruby colored lips. "Light this for me babe."

I grabbed a lighter from my pocket and flicked it open, dipping it just under the end of the stick. "You're welcome," I muttered, sarcastically, earning me an eyebrow raise. She cracked the windows and took another drag, letting the smoke spill out of her mouth sexily.

"Since when do you smoke?" Bella asked, sounding genuinely curious. I swear that girl can be so stupid sometimes. She's only lived with us for over three years, how does she not remember that Esme smokes? I mean really, come on.

"Since before you were born," Esme muttered, tapping the cigarette on the edge of the window.

I could see Edward giving Bella a strange look in the mirror. It was definitely a "what the fuck?" look. Hell, he shouldn't be the one talking. He's the one who called Essie mom.

I heard Bella squirm in the backseat and chuckled. She never really adjusted that well to living with the Cullen clan. Not like it's my fault, I blame Esme for anything that has to do with Bella. She was by far the most uninviting when it came to Bella living with us. She even made Emmett and Jasper make them a cottage so they wouldn't have to live with us. Eh, I love her anyway.

The steady hum of the engine put me in a haze as I thought about what my erotic wife was hiding under her hardly modest dress. I had picked out the perfect little lacy red bra and matching panties. I couldn't wait to rip them off her porcelain body.

"Those are some big words you're using there, Carly. Porcelain? I didn't even think you knew what that meant," Edward said, electing a round of giggles from my mate. I growled. No one makes a fool of me in front of Esme. I mean no one.

"Shut the fuck up, Edward. If I want to fantasize about my wife, I will," Edward snarled a bit, but let off once he saw Bella laughing beside him. He gave her a look, and she shrugged.

I heard Esme's chiming laughter and wrapped a hand around her exposed knee. "You're happy in the bedroom, aren't you, baby?"

She grinned mischievously and blew a cloud of smoke in my face, "happy as can be."

She tossed the end of the cigarette out the window and lit another. She did smoke a lot, but thankfully I love the smell. She smells like cloves and lavender, a delicious combination. She leaned over and bit my earlobe, "just wait a couple hours and I'll make _you_ happy as can be."

I groaned at my wife's words, but kept my eyes on the road. I knew that if I looked at her now, her little blue dress hiked up over her thighs, I'd probably have to stop the car.

Bella P.O.V

If I went back in time to this morning and told myself what's happened to me today, I wouldn't believe it. Sitting in this car squeezed between a nice Rosalie and a cocky Edward makes me think about how strange life can get in a blink of an eye. I do want to get to the bottom of this, but I suppose it can wait. This still might be just a huge joke, who am I to know?

The car is a tight fit, which makes me wonder if they have many family outings. I'm guessing not. Before the Cullen's had the Volvo, which could fit a number of people. Not surprisingly the Cullen's don't own a Volvo anymore. What a surprise.

After I left Rosalie's room, I went down to the cottage. Edward seemed to be in a better mood, and insisted we sit down and talk about things. I told him the real Cullen's pasts, which he found slightly amusing, and I gave him a more in depth look at the real Cullen's personalities, which he also found amusing. Edward was definitely different, but I could tell he was trying to understand and act like the person he once was. He was still pompous and cynical but he was trying.

I told him that we called Carlisle 'dad,' and Esme 'mom,' which he found out right hilarious.

"Are you serious?" he asked in between bouts of laughter.

I hardly found the situation funny, but I cracked a smile anyway, "yea, we were a family more than a 'clan'."

"I'm going to have to call Esme 'mom' just once. Her reaction would be priceless!" he squealed, causing me to chuckle lightly.

I was quite surprised when he ran up to the caramel haired vampire, throwing his arms around her as if he's been doing it for years, which I knew he hadn't.

Esme's reaction was rather funny, but it was also nerve racking. Edward told me not to raise any suspicion, yet there he was doing something almost unforgivable in Esme's book. Was he an idiot now too?

Smoke clogged my lungs, causing me to cough uncomfortably. I had never smoked a cigarette before, and I wasn't really used to the smell, or excess of smoke. Edward's brow furrowed and I pointed at the long cigarette nestled between two of Esme's fingers. He shrugged and went back to looking out the window. I didn't have anything against smoking; I just wasn't used to the stench.

I held my nose, deciding it was better not breathing then breathing in that much smoke. Rosalie patted my arm gently, giving me a sympathetic look. I nodded my thanks, and glanced out the window, hoping the Seattle skyline would be visible.

Sure enough the familiar Space Needle made itself visible through the thick maze of blocky buildings. Carlisle navigated through the city with ease and they were at their first stop quickly.

You could tell by the architecture and the elegant style of the buildings that we were in the higher-class district of Seattle. Elite members of society walked up and down the sidewalks, their little dogs a few paces ahead. Head honchos of impressive businesses road down the streets in the Ferrari's and Aston Martin's, no doubt looking for something to play with before heading back to work. The sight was one I had rarely seen before. I had always tried to stay out of Alice's shopping trips and when I had to go I usually stayed in the car.

We zoomed past fancy stores with canopies over their shiny glass doors. I recognized a few names, Prada, Coach, Chanel, Gucci, Dior, and Burberry. Others I had never heard of like Hermes, Fendi, Louboutin, Armani, Carine Gilson, and Creed. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, suddenly very self-conscious of what I was wearing. Compared to what the people around here were wearing, my simple skirt and long sleeved shirt might as well have been rags.

Edward looked great of course, dressed similarly to Carlisle. He fidgeted constantly, something I wasn't used to seeing him do, and he never flashed me that crooked-grin I had grown to love so dearly.

I sighed, and pushed the old Edward to the back of my mind. I could survive this reality for two weeks, couldn't I? I mean, how hard can it possibly be?

Esme turned to face the backseat, "do you want a cigarette, Bella?" she asked, almost sarcastically.

I shrugged; I had never tried it before. What the hell, this is probably some parallel universe anyway. Might as well try smoking. "Sure, do I normally smoke?" I asked, pulling one from the pack.

Edward chuckled and Esme raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow, "No, you don't, but I thought since your acting so weird today you might want one," she turned back around, "I was right."

Rosalie shook her head, "don't be so daft Bella," she murmured, lighting the thin stick.

I ignored both of them and tried to hold it like the glamorous socialites do in movies and such. I glanced at Esme and mimicked what she was doing. I ended up almost dropping it, so I decided to hold it more securely, in the hopes that I wouldn't burn the car to ashes. It smelled gross, but I took a long drag anyway. My gag reflex went berserk and I lunged forward, hoping I wouldn't vomit up a pool of blood. Edward grabbed the little death stick, tossing it out the window as he laughed openly.

"Sometimes you can be so stupid, Bella," he smiled, making me shrug.

"I didn't think smoking was so hard," I coughed, pulling my hair aside in case I really did vomit.

"Maybe you just have to grow up with it," Esme said, almost nicely. "My first husband smoked like a chimney, drank a lot too. I remember him getting so drunk sometimes that he would beat me till I couldn't move. And then he'd wake up the next day and buy me a fur coat," she looked down sadly, and for the first time I felt a twinge of pity float through the car.

"He's long dead, Esme," Rosalie reassured the woman.

Esme laughed bitterly, "I know he is," she said darkly. "He should have known not to treat a woman like that."

Carlisle nodded as he parked the car in front of an elegant store-front, the words 'Yves Saint-Laurent' plastered in black over the door.

"This is Esme's favorite aside from Agent Provocateur, of course," Rosalie said, as if it were common knowledge. "You know how long she can spend in there."

I nodded, having literally no idea what she was talking about. She grabbed my hand and pulled me into the store, my eyes adjusting to the bright lights quickly.

The store seemed almost familiar, had Alice dragged me in here before? I looked around the tiny shop, inspecting a few items that caught my interest.

Edward and Carlisle had abandoned their ladies, choosing to go over to the men's side of the store instead.

The greeters swarmed Esme, either noticing her face or noticing her YSL shoes. Rosalie peddled around, a few steps behind Esme, her arms full of clothing and accessories.

I knew I was supposed to be helping, but I just can't stand shopping, and the thought of trying to pick something up to Esme's standards made my stomach churn worse than the cigarette did.

The two girls made their way to the back of the store, where a line of glass shelves housed the 'pre-fall runway collection,' which was supposedly 'just for show.' Esme stared into the display cases, totally mesmerized by the pricey clothing.

I will never understand the importance of designer brands.

Esme P.O.V

"I need that coat," I whispered, my face glued to the glass. It was a beautiful red poppy plongé leather, mid-thigh trench coat, complete with gold buttons and a silk lining. I needed it.

I heard Rosalie sigh behind me, "We'll come back in a few months, once it's on sale to the public," Rosalie said, trying to reason with me no doubt.

I shot her a look, "I'm not leaving without that coat, and I don't care what they say. They owe me anyway; I modeled for them forty years ago when they still appreciated womanly figures. Now they just want to hire girls that look like twelve year old boys who got acid thrown on their face."

Rosalie rolled her eyes, "even you have to follow rules sometimes Esme. Look we already got a ton of stuff, and we haven't even gone to your favorite store yet."

"Go find the owner of this place, Rose. You better hope to God it's a man, or some bitch is going down," I hissed, tapping at the glass, wishing I could just break it and run.

"Fine," Rosalie said, walking over to a greeter who pointed her to the back room.

It took less than a few seconds for Rosalie to come back out, a middle-aged man with dark brown hair in tow.

"Is there a problem?" he asked with rehearsed concern.

"Yes, there is actually," I said, turning on the charm. I could tell he was already enticed by my youth and beauty. "See, I would really love to buy this trench coat, but your employees are telling me it's not for sale. I know it's for the runway, but see I'm a model and I would take good care of it. You can trust me," I said, my voice seductive and sultry.

"Uh, I don't know…" he started.

"It's just so beautiful," I sighed, pulling my arms together to maximize cleavage level. His eyes bulged and he nodded.

He fumbled with some keys and opened the glass case, removing the red coast clumsily. "I'm so sorry, ma'am, sometimes they can be so rude," he said, handing me the coat.

"It's fine," I said with a gleaming smile.

He nodded quickly and raced back to his office, leaving the greeters and other workers stunned. I looked around for my husband and found him inspecting a charcoal grey suit carefully.

"Time to go, baby, I got what I wanted," I said, holding up the coat and gesturing towards Rosalie's full arms. "You know what that means don't you?"

He looked up with bored eyes, "Prada or Gucci?"

I placed a hand on my hip, "Don't give me that face, you bastard. We're going to Agent Provocateur."

That sure got his attention. His face alit with surprise and mischief sure was a turn-on. He grabbed the suit and raced toward the register.

I fished my visa out and handed it to the clerk who slid it through quickly, handing it back as if it burned her. "Do you want to know your total amount spent?"

"Why not?" I mumbled, lighting up a cigarette.

"$13, 215," she said, surprising both me and Carlisle. I thought it would be much more than that.

"Are you sure you got everything you want, baby?" he asked. He never seemed to speak like that outside of the public eye. He was too busy groping me at home, not that I don't like it but still. I sighed and nodded.

"We still have a few places to go," I reminded him. He waggled his eyebrows, making me laugh, and grabbed the bags.

As we were leaving I glanced over my shoulder at the store clerk. Her mouth hung-open and her eyes were wide.

I put on a pair of sunglasses and smiled. Humans were such petty creatures.

Carlisle P.O.V

"Do we really have to go in _here?_" Edward asked, stopping in front of Esme's favorite store.

"Hell yes!" I cried, racing in after my wife. I turned back and looked at Edward, "you never complained before. You don't have to lie to me, Eddie; I know you like seeing Essie try on those bits of lace. You should really try and get Bella into some of those, I mean she's not nearly as well endowed, but still."

Edward laughed, "I'll never know why she chose you and not me! I mean come on, what's not to love? And yea, she's hot, but I've really been keeping my eyes on Bella lately. She's a little on the skinny side, but she's my mate and I love her," he shrugged.

"What'd you do with the real Edward? You never act like this," I said, watching my wife flit around the show room.

"Yea I know," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "I just got a bit of a wakeup call."

"What do you mean 'wakeup call,'" I asked as Esme picked up a cute baby blue bra.

"Has Esme ever been upset with you before? Like really upset or maybe the better word is disappointed," he said, eyeing a very distressed and awkward looking Bella.

I snorted, "Has Esme ever been mad at me? Only most of the time! I don't know if she's ever been 'disappointed', but she sure as hell's been bitchy. Bella being bitchy?"

Edward shook his head, "no, she's fine I guess. I'm just trying to change, for her really. I'm kind of an ass sometimes."

"Yea, and if you weren't you'd be rotting in your grave. It's just who you are, and If you try to change it you'll probably just end up hurting her more. Being a good person is over rated anyway," I said, crossing my arms.

Edward laughed, "You're a sick old bastard, you know that?"

"Esme's already called me that once today, I don't need to hear it from you too," I joked.

Edward sighed, "You really love her though, don't you?"

I grinned, "God yes, I've never felt so much love for one person in my life. She's got her past, and I have mine, but I feel that nothing can overpower our love. Nothing."

Edward blinked a few times and ran over to his wife, grabbing both of her hands and leading her over to a corner, to talk I suppose.

"Carlisle, baby, come here," my lover called from a rack of corsets. "Which one do you like?" she asked, holding up a light purple ribbon corset and a black leather buckle corset.

"Hmm…You know I don't think I can make up my mind without seeing you in them…" I said, grabbing her hand and pulling her over to the dressing rooms.

Rosalie tossed me the other things Esme had picked out, "please have a little less fun then you did last time," Rosalie warned, throwing Esme an accusing glare.

"No promises," my wife said as we shut the door.

**OoOoOoO**

**As always I adore reviews and ideas! Tell me what you hated and what you loved and what you kinda liked and what you absolutely couldn't stand, I read every single one!**

**Hopefully I'll have another one up by tomorrow, if my schedule allows me some more writing time!**

**And Bella's cigarette experiment is a real event…except I really did puke…not a good memory *shudders***

**Hope you enjoyed!**


	5. If I Knew

**This chapter really focuses on a couple of the opposite Cullen's relationships with their spouses. I decided to keep them all deeply in love, even though they are opposites. I like to think nothing could break their love *teartear* The first part focuses on Rosalie and emmett's relationship and how they are trying to deal with Emmett's prolonged and frequent absences. The second part focuses on Carlisle and Esme's first meeting and how they were in love at first touch *winkwink* Hope you enjoy!**

**OoOoOoO**

_And I remember when I met him,_

_It was so clear that he was the only one for me._

_We both knew it, right away._

_And as the years went on, things got more difficult- we were faced with more challenges._

_I begged him to stay._

_Try to remember what we had at the beginning._

_I loved him, I loved him._

_And I still love him. I love him._

_-Jackie O. Kennedy on her late husband_

_April 17th, 2014_

_Cullen House, Forks Washington_

_6:00 AM_

**OoOoOoO**

Rosalie P.O.V

My gut wrenched as I saw his car drive up and park in the garage. The morning light poured into the house, causing my skin, and his skin, to glitter like a diamond. I wonder if he knows I'm watching him, expecting him. My hands fall from the window as he climbs the steps, his footfalls heavy and loud. His breathing is steady as he sets his briefcase down in the middle of the doorway.

Two arms wrap themselves around my waist, making me jump. "I missed you," he says, kissing my cheek gently.

I nod, and he grabs my hand, pecking it lightly. "I love you, Rosalie. I always will." I know what he says is true, because I love him too, more than anyone in the world. But that doesn't mean he's perfect. And it doesn't mean I'm not angry with him.

I tug off his jacket, hanging it on the coat rack carefully. He plucks his hat off, handing it to me with wary eyes. I give him a gentle smile and put it away.

"I wish you would say something, Rosalie," his voice is rough and hoarse.

My hands grasp the briefcase, lugging it over to the closet and plopping it down on his side.

"I know I've been working a lot lately, but it's my job. I can't change it," he grabs my arm and pulls me so I'm looking at him. I bow my head, not wanting to meet his eyes. "What's wrong with you?"

He was getting angry and very quickly. I shrugged out of his grasp and went to the bathroom, turning on the sink to wash my face. I didn't want to see the explosion.

"Rosalie, you're my wife with means you have to talk to me sometime."

I splash a handful of water on my face, hoping it will help clear my mind. The mirror shows a sorry excuse for a girl, and an ever sorrier excuse for a vampire.

"Tell me what's going on Rosalie! Are you crying?" he asks, noticing my shaking form for the first time.

The tile feels cool against my body as I slip and fall, gravity pulling me to the floor. I can't take it. I'm not his doll. He can't chose when he wants to love me and when he doesn't. The pain is like a knife cutting away at each level of skin, breaking away all the walls I built to keep out this raw emotion. I can hear him, screaming and yelling, kicking and punching. I love him so much, but he's tearing me apart.

"Tell me what's wrong!" he demands, throwing a fist through the drywall. I instantly flinch, crawling deeper into the corner.

"Are you doing this because I was away for so long? That doesn't matter now, I'm here right now," his words are reassuring, but I can still detect an edge in his tone.

I feel his arms enveloped me, pulling me off the ground. He carries me to our bed, laying me down softly. My body curls back up, my face hidden behind a curtain of blonde hair.

"Please, we can talk everything out. I'll do anything, please just say something. I love you so much."

He listens intently, as if what I have to say is the most important thing in the world. He nods after every few sentences, and murmurs sweet nothings in my ear when my voice falters or cracks. His eyes are comforting, ruby orbs filled with adoration. He grips my hand tightly, and I'm glad. His touch fills me with serenity and a wave of tranquility washes over me as his thumb traces over dead veins.

I tell him why I'm upset and he doesn't question it. He tells me he understands and that he'll see if he can get some time off. I want to believe him, I do, but something inside me tells me he's said it before.

"Don't tell me empty promises, because I don't want them," I warn him. He strokes my hair affectionately with his free hand.

"I promise, Rosalie. I'll even take off the rest of the week and the next. How does that sound?"

I nod, thoughtlessly, wishing, not for the first or the last time, that life was simpler. All I ever wanted was a happy life with my husband and my friends. True, I am very lucky, and I know that, but I still want more. I want to be Emmett's first priority, not his twenty-fifth. I want him to appreciate the love that I give him every day in the form of phone-calls and long letters. I want him to see the light in my eyes every time he comes home from a long trip. I want him to adore me like he did the first couple years of our marriage.

I know he loves me. The statement is repeated by millions of people every day, and every day it loses some of its potency because of it. Love is deeper then holding hands and kissing cheeks. Love is a true force of nature, and it's not something people should take lightly. We say it but do we really mean it?

Love lies, and love cheats, but it's always there. You can push it away, you can try to ignore it, but it will always come back, nudging at your heart and pleading for forgiveness. It's both physical and emotional, both mental and materialistic. It nurtures and it breaks without warning, damning you to an eternity in darkness until someone new comes along.

Emmett was my other half. He humbled me. He gripped my heart and never let go, yet somewhere down the line we forgot what true love was. His grip loosened and I lost all hope. My life became a steady constant, never changing and never moving ahead. Emmett and I grew apart as worldly decisions and actions tried to desperately pull us apart, tearing at our bond but never breaking it.

"You're my Rosie," he wrapped his arms around me practically crushing me. He wanted to get through, to understand what I need, but he couldn't. I told him so much, but some things can't be told through words. Some things need to be seen, and felt to ever truly experience them. "You'll always be my Rose petal," he reminded me, pulling me into his lap.

"Promise me you'll never leave me," my voice wavers as I sink into his embrace.

He brought his lips to the top of my head and softly said, "Never. I'm yours for all of eternity."

"I'm sorry about what I did, it was extremely childish."

"You don't have to apologize. It's my fault; I haven't been spending enough time with you. It was selfish of me to neglect my wife in such a way," he said, stroking my cheek gently.

"You have work," I reasoned.

"My work isn't what's most important to me. You are. You always have been."

My heart soared at his words and I smiled to myself. "That's quite flattering," I said, trying not to let my surprise and excitement ooze into my voice.

He chuckled, "Is it? I thought you already knew, do I not say it enough?"

"No, you do," I lied, "It's just nice to hear you say it after being away for so long." I turned around still captured in his arms to face him. "I missed you."

He grinned and spun a blonde curl around his finger, "I missed you even more."

I caught his hand and glared at him playfully, "I don't even think that's possible."

He laughed, which made me laugh. He has such a beautiful laugh, like thousands of angels calling down from the heavens. Maybe that's why he rarely laughs, because he knows the world couldn't handle hearing such a striking sound more than a few times.

I wiggled free from his grasp and pinned him on the bed by his hands. He struggled, but soon realized he was most certainly stuck. My husband had never been very strong in his human life, thus making him a fairly weak vampire that could be easily overpowered by his determined wife.

I lean down, reveling in the feel of his lips against my own. He tasted sweet, like cinnamon and vanilla and his lips were soft as velvet. I had almost forgotten what it felt like to kiss Emmett and feel his hands on my body. Almost.

We kiss, but we don't push it any further. Neither of us wanted to spoil the fragile thing we had created with a round of something as rough as sex. So we just snuggled, my head resting on his chest and his hand resting on my back, tracing patterns on my shirt.

"Why do we do this to each other?" I asked him.

He kisses the top of my head, smoothing my hair like a child. "I wish I knew, Rose. I wish I knew."

**OoOoOoO**

_Darling, darling, doesn't have a problem _

_Lying to herself cause her liquor's top shelf _

_It's alarming honestly how charming she can be _

_Fooling everyone, telling how she's having fun_

_She says you don't want to be like me _

_Don't wanna see all the things I've seen _

_I'm dying, I'm dying _

_She says you don't want to get this way_

_Famous and dumb at an early age_

_I'm dying _

_-Lana Del Rey, 'Carmen'_

_May 22, 1921 (flashback)_

_New York, New York_

_4:00 PM_

Esme P.O.V

"Do you know who I am?" I asked, scrutinizing the God like blonde in front of me. He was wearing an expensive Armani suit, tailored perfectly to his muscled body. His eyes were a flat black and his skin was a chalky white. He was absolutely gorgeous.

He smiled, showing two rows of pearl white teeth. "Esme Platt, correct?"

"Evenson. Esme Evenson," I corrected, flashing him the diamond on my left hand. For a solid moment I wished I didn't have that ring on, so I could marry this mystery man that has enough nerve to walk up to me in the middle of Macy's and ask me out on a date like a teenager.

"Married, hmm?" he raised an eyebrow seductively and I muffled the urge to moan. He was oozing sex, unlike my husband who's fifteen years older than me and can't even get it up.

I flick through a rack of coats passively, trying not to let my reaction to him look too obvious. I prayed he couldn't see it on the front of my dress. "Last time I checked, "I was going for a bored tone, but it came out as more of a growl.

He chuckled and leaned against the wall, "Not happily married?"

"Who are you to ask me about my marriage?" I questioned him with heated eyes.

He snorted, crossing his arms, "I know you like me Esme _Evenson_," he placed extra pronunciation on my husband's last name, making me frown uncomfortably.

"I'm a married woman," I stated flatly.

He dismissed my words with a wave of his hands, "I _know _that doesn't matter to you. You know what I even made a list," he said brightly, pulling a slip of paper out of his pant pocket. He opened it ceremoniously and began reading it loud and clear, "Harold Kings, James Totten, Roger Tetts, Louis Price, Norm-" he said, naming all the men I had had sexual relationships while married.

I shoved the man, grabbing the slip from his hands and shredding it quickly. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I asked fiercely, pushing him against the wall roughly. "I have an image you know." A really good image at the moment. It looks like I'm living the perfect life. I have money, a husband, a fabulous apartment. But I'm not happy, far from it actually. I live a life of lies and deceit, of sex and glitz. I'm a joke, but I don't want mystery man to know that.

He laughed, smoothing his suit gently. "You're a tough one, you know that? Usually their just begging me to take them to bed by now."

I flinched at his words, "You're sick."

He shrugged one should dismissively, "Actually my name's Carlisle but if you want to scream out 'sick' that's fine too."

I suppressed the urge to laugh; we shared the same sort of sick humor. _Cute and funny, _I thought, staring into his black irises. No, I couldn't. Charles warned me that the next time he caught me cheating there would be consequences. I couldn't live without the money he constantly supplied.

"Leave me alone."

Carlisle's smug grin faded as he walked over to me. "Please Esme, just one date. He'll never know," he promised, grabbing my chin.

"No," I spat at him.

He pursed his lips. His hands left my chin, trailing down my neck and over my collarbone till he reached my bosom.

"What the hel-"I started before he squeezed. Hard. And I had just given birth less than a week ago. I swear that hurt more than pushing that baby out.

I let out a muffled scream, burying my face into Carlisle's jacket to help eliminate the noise. It still echoed though, turning many heads. Great, Charles is certainly going to hear about this now.

"What the fuck?" I exclaimed, the pain dying down enough to look up at the frazzled man.

He gulped and pulled at his tie awkwardly, "It's just that most-uh-woman like that, I wasn't trying to hurt you or anything," he admitted, bowing his head a tad.

"Well you did!" I retorted in a snappy whisper. "I was pregnant a week ago you fucking idiot!"

He raised his hands defensively, "Hey, I didn't know!"

My eyes narrowed, "So I guess you just go around grabbing ladies assets all day then," I said, massaging the tender flesh carefully. I mentally cursed Charles for making me nurse his son. I really do hate children, especially when their latched to my nipple.

Carlisle's smug look returned once he realized I was ok, "for the most part."

"Well Carlisle, I hope we never meet again," I lied, walking away from the handsome man. Later that day I would realize that when Carlisle touched me I didn't just feel pain, I felt electricity. A connection sparked between us that I could already tell was strong, much stronger than my non-existent one with Charles.

And as I lie in bed with my husband I can't help but put Carlisle's perfect face in my mind. I loved him already, and yet I don't even know his last name.

Hours turned to days as I awaited another surprise appearance from Carlisle. On the third day I went back to Macy's, heading straight to the department I had met him in. He wasn't there. I couldn't help but sigh in disappointment at his absence. I wanted to see him again, so badly it made my heart swell and burst. I felt like a school girl crushing on the teacher again.

I told myself that if I just saw him one more time, then I could live with Charles happily for the rest of my life. My subconscious knew that was a lie though. I'm naturally a greedy person, and I always want more when there's none left. More money, more diamonds, more sex.

I made my way through the racks, my eyes constantly roaming the crowded faces for my blonde God. A flicker of apprehension flashed across my mind as I raced through the department store like a mad woman. Why was I chasing this man? I had half of New York under my spell, why did I need Carlisle on that list too? Did this sleazy man mean that much to me?

Yes. He means more than anything to me, for some odd and unknown reason. It felt like someone had tied a cord around my waist, pulling me towards him without my consent. I needed to find him.

And find him I did, leaning over the cosmetics counter flirting with a ditzy looking teenager. I felt jealousy roll over me and a snarl ripped from my throat as I practically ran over to the pale man, my heels clicking on the floor ominously.

His face lit up when he saw me, a hint of joy in his dark eyes, "Why isn't it my good friend Esme _Evenson. _Showing me a little more today I see," he said smugly, eyeing my low neckline.

I blushed a deep red. In my dreams he said something a little more romantic and then we ran off together. Truthfully I had barely even though about what I was going to say.

"We need to talk," I blurted out. Where was the charm I had been using on men since I was fifteen?

"We do?" he asked in mock surprise.

I grabbed his wrist, pulling him away from the younger girl. "Yes we do."

"Where at?" he asked, allowing me to pull him along.

I blinked, I hadn't even thought of that. I thought of what normal people were doing for dates nowadays, "Coffee?"

His brow furrowed but he didn't stop, "I guess that's ok," he said, obviously unsure about my decision.

"Good, because that's where were going," I rushed us out of the store, shivering at the nippy cold. Carlisle shrugged out of his jacket and placed it around my shoulders delicately.

"Better?" he asked as we walked down the dense sidewalk.

"Yes, thank you," my voice quivered and I coughed lightly, feigning illness. "I suppose the pregnancy got me under the weather," I lied smoothly.

He nodded, "It was Evenson's child, right?"

I cast him a disgusted look, "Of course."

His eyebrows shot into his hairline, his dark eyes glassy. "You say it as if it was common knowledge yet you've already had a child out of wedlock, did you not?"

My eyes widened, "how do you know so much about me?" I asked, more surprised than angry.

He shrugged casually, "word gets around. You know how it is I'm sure."

The sky, which was cement grey, cast odd shadows across Carlisle's face, making me want to shrink away. But I couldn't. Something about him pulled me in and my eyes stayed locked. I wanted him, more than I ever wanted any piece of jewelry, or any dress. He would complete my collection.

I decided then that Carlisle would be mine, even if it meant my certain death. At the time when I made that promise I didn't think much of it. I didn't think that Carlisle Anthony Cullen really would be the death of me.

**OoOoOoO**

**As always R&R!**


	6. Paralyzed

**A theme of rape and violence is prevalent in this chapter. If this offends you or if you are under fifteen please do not read any further.**

**Hope you enjoy and please review! **

**OoOoOoO**

"_Jealousy is the most dreadfully involuntary of all sins"_

_-Iris Murdoch_

_April 17th, 2014_

_11:00 PM_

_Seattle, Washington_

_Cullen Inc. Office _

**OoOoOoO**

Carlisle P.O.V

I hate my job. I hate the people; I hate the dumb ass books I have to read for it, I hate the time it takes away from my 'Esme time,' and more than anything I hate the lunches. Every month the firm has caters come in and everyone is expected to eat and chat and do whatever else mindless humans do. To put it quite bluntly it's hell.

But I do it anyway, because I have to look good. What bothers me is that I own the whole firm; I should be making every decision around here, not some twenty year old intern that thinks we should set aside time to 'get to know each other better'. So I brought it up in a meeting and you know what they told me? They told me it's _essential _to a thriving business. Fucking essential.

I could have blown up, told them I didn't care what's essential. But I didn't, simply because I don't like resignation papers or the tedious task of job interviews.

So here I am, sitting in the middle of a conference room trying to stomach some type of God-awful sandwich when my wife's expecting me to be home in less than fifteen minutes for some afternoon loving. Why does my life suck so badly?

Somehow I'm able to finish the meal, my stomach telling me to find a bathroom quick unless I want puke all over my suit.

"You'll have to excuse me," I said, standing up, "my wife's expecting me to be home soon."

I notice John, the little prick who has a crush on my wife, adjust his pants awkwardly. I brought Esme in a few years back when I first moved to this office, just to show her around, and this little son-of-a-bitch comes up to _my_ wife and starts talking to her as if he'd known her his whole life. Thankfully later that same night Esme told me he looked like a college frat boy and that she held little to no interest in him. I eagerly agreed. But ever since that day it seems like all the guy wants to talk about is her, and ask me how she's doing, and stare at pictures of her. For God's sake she's my wife!

My anger boils over as I grab my half empty water bottle, crushing it in my hand and throwing it into the trash.

"Are you ok, Mr. Cullen?" an associate asks kindly, his eyes more curious then sympathetic.

I offer a fake smile and nod, "Just fine, Mr. Parker. Oh, but Mr. Wilks I need to have a word with you before I go," I gesture towards the little prick. "Will you meet me in the hall?"

His pudgy hands grapple at a few folders and papers that were scattered over the table precariously. "Uh, of course sir," I can tell he's frightened. Hell, he should be, I'm not planning on being very sympathetic.

I pull open the door gingerly, waving the man through. For the first time I really scrutinized him. He was young, thirty at most, and had a bit of weight, probably from drinking too many beers through college. His hair was a curly red color, which only seemed to make him paler and more sickly looking. Dark freckles ran across his nose and forehead, and his eyes, which were a cloudy hazel color, were sunken and small, as if he'd been clocked too many times as a child.

I shut the door quietly, leading the short man down the hall and out of ear-shot. As we walked I couldn't help but notice a few strands of sunlight peeking through the shut blinds. How the hell was I going to get out without being caught? My hand went to my pocket, feeling for my ever present phone. I could always call Esme. She might be bitchy about it, but she would come. She loves me after all.

The young associate glanced down at his dull black shoes, "What do you need to talk to me about, sir?" he asked, tucking a few strands of sweaty hair behind his ear.

I leaned forward, my eyes bearing into his skull, "I think we both know what I'm here to talk to you about," I said, tilting my head slightly.

He pulled at his collar perpetually, "I-I don't know what you mean…I-I handled that client a few days ago perfectly," he insisted.

I rolled my eyes, "I don't care if you handled that case better than me, you know what I do care about?"

He gulped, the thick saliva running down his dry throat slowly, "W-what d-do you care a-about M-Mr. Cullen?"

"I care about my wife," my tone was icy as I tapped his chest a few times with my pointer finger, flattening his spineless form against the wall, trapping him.

"As y-you s-should," John reasoned, sweat dribbling down his neck. His blood called out to me, but I couldn't kill him. Not yet anyway.

I chuckled, "Yes, I should. Do you know what loving husband's do to men who lust for their wives?" he shuddered at my words.

"N-n-no," he responded, his eyes widening.

I grinned, "Well I do-"

"Mrs. Cullen!" the blimp erupted, cutting me off rudely.

I growled and pushed him against the wall roughly, leaving a good sized dent. Surprisingly his stature didn't waver, but his face did. He was smiling, his eyes alit with joy.

And then I smelt her, cloves and lavender. I felt a light tap on my shoulder and turned around, "Why hello dear," she said, staring at the dazed man who was ogling her.

"You look ravishing," I told her, kissing her passionately, the taste of her last cigarette filling my mouth.

She smiled around me lips, "As do you," she chimed, pulling away. "Who's your little friend here?" she asked, faking non-recognition. Vampires never forget anything, much to my distaste.

The prick brushed off his coat and offered his sweaty palm, "Mr. Wilks, but you can call me John." She looked at the hand with raised eyebrows, but didn't take it, leaving the man embarrassed.

"I'm Esme, but you can call me Mrs. Cullen," she retorted, flashing the diamond I had given her almost a hundred years ago.

He nodded a little too enthusiastically for my tastes, "of course Mrs. Cullen. You look beautiful today," he said, his eyes roaming her curvy body slowly. "You have exquisite tastes."

I thought about killing him right there on the spot, but I decided I wanted to see what Esme would do with him. I sat back to watch the show.

My wife smiled at his compliment. She had always been a sucker for flattery. "You think so?" she asked seductively, swaying her hips and she came closer to the red-haired human.

"Just g-goregous," he stuttered as she flicked open the first few bottoms of her blouse, revealing her best assets. A growl built in the back of my throat as he stared at her cleavage, his eyes brimming with tears. Why the fuck is he crying? "You're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," he reminded her. She grinned and pulled the tie out of her hair, releasing her caramel waves.

"Now you're being ridiculous," she said in mock modesty. I've been married to her for many many years but she's never showed even a touch of genuine modesty or humility. She's a spoiled girl through and through, and I'm more than happy to spoil her.

"I'm most certainly n-not," he said, making a grab at her chest. She swatted him away easily.

"You can look but you can't feel, that's Carlisle's job," she said, throwing me a sexy smile over her shoulder.

John glanced up at me, giving me a cocky smile before leaning down and whispering to my wife, "I'd be much better than him." I knew the little prick thought I couldn't hear him, but I let a snarl out of my throat anyway.

Esme's eyes widened in fake surprise, "You would?"

John chuckled and leaned back, "I can do some amazing things, Esme," he answered cockily.

Esme pouted cutely, "I don't know if you can handle a real woman, John."

His eyebrows shot into his airline and his jaw went slack. A smile crept across my face as my wife continued, "I'm sure you've had tons of _girls_ but I doubt you've had someone like me," she pushed her arms together invitingly.

"Let me take you home and I'll show you that I can," he said, regaining confidence quickly.

Esme laughed and buttoned her shirt back up, making the boy whimper quietly. She leaned in and whispered in John's ear, "Meet me beside the building in ten minutes, in that alley. He'll be gone by then," she assured him, winking one black eye.

So she was thirsty and wanted something to play with. Not uncommon in Esme's book. Many of her admirers show up dead. The police are always puzzled at the odd deaths, but I know it's just Esme's way of telling me she's mine.

"Whatever you say," he choked, his mind deep into Esme's spell. There was no going back now.

She patted his chest lightly, "Miss you," she said, kissing her hand and laying it on his cheek. He swooned and almost lost his balance.

I chuckled as Esme grabbed my arm, leading us to the elevator hastily. "You've out done yourself this time," I said as she opened a compact umbrella.

She beamed, "Don't I always?"

I averted my gaze from my lovely wife to the rather large pink umbrella she had opened in the middle of the elevator. "And why do we need an umbrella?"

She rolled her eyes, "You can be so stupid sometimes, Carlisle. Do you just want to go outside and be turned in as a walking disco ball?" she asked, making me feel like a complete fool.

"Oh, right," I mumbled as the door opened. Esme pushed me out and plopped a hat over my head.

I raised an eyebrow, "Rather be safe than dead," she reminded me, putting on a hat as well.

The sun was indeed bright as we raced toward my Ferrari, my embarrassment over the color of the umbrella quickly leaving me as I realized how bad this situation could have ended. We piled into the tiny car, waiting to see if the unlucky man would show up. Well, it's really not 'if' but 'when'. Esme's power is strong, and no man has ever been able to resist it. I highly doubt John has enough power to overcome something that can still cripple me. So we waited for the little prick to show up.

After exactly ten minutes he came out, hands stuffed in his pockets and head down. Esme glanced out the window and smiled, the sky had become grey, guarding the sun from our skin. She flicked open the door and raced into the alley playfully, her hair billowing in the slight breeze.

_April 17th, 2014_

_9:00 PM_

_Forks, Washington_

_Cullen House_

**OoOoOoO**

Bella P.O.V

"Where's Esme?" I asked Edward. We had decided to spend a day at home today, away from the rest of the family. I was getting used to the new Cullens, but I still wanted my old family back. I think I'm starting to get through to Edward, but he still wants to wait a little while before doing anything too dangerous. So were sitting in the living room, my head in Edward's lap, and his hands running through my hair.

"She said something about going to get Carlisle. She's thirsty too, they'll probably pick up a snack on the way home," he said nonchalantly.

I felt my body still and my muscles go rigid. _A snack_. They were going to kill someone. I hadn't touched any blood since I came to the new Cullen abode, but when I get too thirsty to ignore the burning I know I won't be killing any humans. I talked to Edward about it and he was a little wary, saying he's eaten human blood since he was a new born. He couldn't change so fast. Apparently I've only had human blood too, but my will power is much stronger and I'm sure I'll be able to, I have to. I can't even imagine killing someone _on purpose._

I shot up from my down position, "We have to stop them! We can't let them do that Edward, just kill an innocent human like that," I grabbed his hand, pulling him up. "We need to leave now if we want to catch up with them."

He shook his head and laughed lightly, "Bella, it's just the way things are. Even you can't change their minds. Everyone has to eat," he reminded me.

How could he not understand? They were going to _kill _someone, someone with a family, a wife or husband, maybe even kids and a house and hopes and dreams. They were going to commit murder of the first degree and probably not even regret it. I thought about the Carlisle I once knew. He would want me to stop him, to try and save the human before his instincts take over. And Esme, oh she was always so distraught when she slipped. She would sob for weeks and lock herself in her room, allowing only Carlisle to comfort her. They would want me to stop them. I had to try, it's the least I could do.

"I'm going whether you come with me or not," I told my husband, pulling on a jacket and sliding a car key in my pocket.

Edward stood up and placed his hands on my shoulders, 'Please, Bella, don't do this. You won't win," he warned me.

"I don't care if I don't win, but I need to cry. They would regret this if they were normal."

Edward sighed as he drew his eyes to the window, "I suppose it isn't too sunny…"

"And rain's moving in, it's probably already hit Seattle by now," I reasoned, dragging him toward the garage.

He stopped suddenly, almost yanking my arm off, "What now?" I asked, exasperated by his wariness to help.

"They'll be mad," he said doubtfully.

I frowned, "I don't care. I couldn't live with myself if I just let them make this huge mistake, Edward. And if you really love me then you'll come too. I can't do it alone," I chided, pulling out the pair of keys and dangling them in front of his face. "Are you in?"

Edward thought for a minute before answering, his voice low and solemn, "I love you so I will go, but don't expect to save the human's life, because it's a 99.9% whoever they chose is going to die. It's just the way things are."

"It doesn't have to be like that. We could all drink from animals," I said simply.

"It's not that simple, Bella. We can't just switch so quickly, it takes time."

I growled lowly and slung open the garage door, "Fine! You can have as much time as _you _want, but once my two weeks are up I'm out of here. But in the mean-time I'm going to try and save as many people as possible. No one deserves to die so brutally," I cried loudly, causing Edward to jump back a few feet.

"You're right," he muttered, bowing his head slightly, "I never even gave killing a human a second thought. It's just what we did, we were vampires and we were made to kill. But in all reality we're no better than the disgusting people that go around molesting women and children. They have no way to fight back, just as our victims our powerless against our assaults. We aren't monsters, but I can see how one might think we are," he mused, opening up a car door and climbing in. I mimicked him silently.

"You're better than the rest of us," Edward said thoughtfully, turning the ignition, the heady scent of gas filling the car.

**OoOoOoO**

I had seen the business side of Seattle only once, what with its tall skyscrapers and cement sidewalks. It seemed to stretch on for miles, one building bleeding into the next. The green environment I had become accustomed to vanished, leaving behind an industrial looking city, complete with bright gold monuments and pitiful street performers.

The only other time I had seen this side of town I had been frantic, fearing for my daughter's life. It's hard to believe that was over eight years ago. It seemed like just yesterday I meet Edward for the first time, in that high school biology class.

I glance over at my husband. His hands grip the steering wheel tightly, the weak plastic no match for his superior strength. His brow is furrowed and his lips and tight and he jerks the car down another long street. "We're almost there," he tells me, keeping his eyes on the road.

I nod mindlessly. My mind had been so wrapped around the idea of _getting_ here that I hadn't really thought of what I would do once I actually got here. Surely they could be reasonable and listen to me. I firmly believe that somewhere, deep down, they are still the Carlisle and Esme I know and love, and I could always persuade them fairly easily.

My body is tense, though I don't know why. I'm not nervous, or even anxious, just a little excited. It would be a cinch. Everyone has a conscious, right?

Rain pours from the sky, forcing Edward to put the wind shield wipers on full blast. The sky is dark and ominous, a true warning of the danger to come.

"Is that it?" I ask, pointing to a tall black building with the words 'Cullen Inc.' across the top in white.

Edward nods, "I can hear Esme. She's in the alley on the other side with a man named John. I can't hear much, their thoughts are very fast and sporadic. I haven't been able to pinpoint any of them."

I sigh, "I hope we aren't too late."

**OoOoOoO**

Esme P.O.V

"I see you came," I said, pushing the little boy against the brick wall. He smiles seductively, making me cringe. The human reeks of PBR and other women, an awful combination in my own opinion. He reaches forward to kiss me and I push him back easily. "Not so fast," I warn him, my hands peeling off his jacket.

He whimpers slightly and I push him into the wall harder, "You're going to have to wait a minute, honey," I tell him, lighting a cigarette and blowing a fume of smoke in his face. I throw the jacket to the ground offensively.

I turn from my victim for a second to peer around the corner to see if my husband is waiting patiently. His is, and when he sees me he gives me a wink. His jealously is a little frustrating at times, but I know that he knows I'm the only one for him. I smile inwardly and turn back around at what I see.

A chill forms in my bones as John lunges at me, a knife in hand. My joints lock as he thrusts me to the ground, the useless knife at my throat. "You're a prick-tease, Esme. You just want me to fuck you, don't you?" Flashbacks run through my mind as his hands tear at my clothes, destroying the expensive clothing.

_ I had been sleeping in my husband's New York apartment, our children already asleep down the hall, when I felt Charles get up from his side of the bed and begin digging through his dresser for something. I was too sleepy to sit up and ask what he was doing so I just rolled over and shut my eyes, hoping I could find dreamland again. Then Charles turned on the light, blinding me behind shut eyelids. _

_ "What are you-"I started as Charles came up and straddled my hips. He stunk of cigarette smoke and vodka, the usual mix._

_ "I got you a present, dear," he said mockingly, pulling a long knife out of his pajama pocket. A scream rose in the back of my mouth as Charles pulled the sheets off my frail form. _

"_Charles, please don't do this!" I scream, hoping someone will wake up and put a stop to this madness._

_ "Maybe you shouldn't have prancing around with that Carlisle!" he retorts, slapping me across the face roughly._

_ He then proceeded to shred my clothing, leaving me bare and cold in my own bedroom. "I'm going to get one last use out of you, whether you like it or not, before I end this forever," he said, peeling off his pants._

_ My screams must have been deafening, but no one ever came. I had to wonder if he paid off the maids and nannies so he could do this, so he could rape me. The pain was excruciating as he pulled on my hair and pounded his fists into my pale flesh. Blood splattered the blankets and baseboard as he sliced a thin cut across my upper chest. My jaw clenched as he made a twin gash across my stomach. "You're nothing but a little whore, Esme. I don't know why the hell I didn't see it earlier; for God's sake you were knocked up when I married you! You're going to pay and all of New York is going to know what you did, you can count on that!"_

_ He placed the blade right above my navel, "You belong in hell," he said, before thrusting the knife into my abdomen._

John's preying hands pulled me from my reverie. Two hands were on my thighs, tightening by the minute as his fingers curled. There was no doubt in my mind that he would be hurting me if I was more fragile.

"You're a little whore, Esme, aren't you? Tell me, tell me! Tell your little husband how much you want to please me," he says, placing a knee in my stomach. His hands pull apart my knees roughly, pulling at the lace there.

I'm powerless as he claws at my body, his fingers burning my cold dead skin. I'm much stronger than him, but I don't feel it. I feel like a victim, just as I did in 1921 when my own husband tried to murder me. For the first time in a very long time I feel _human. _I'm not the strong, fearless vampire Carlisle made. I'm a dreadfully weak twenty-six year old girl, caught motionless in fear.

"You smell so sweet," John murmurs in my ear as his hands roam. My body slumps in defeat and I can hear his cackling laughter. "Where's your husband now, huh? Where's he now?" I foolishly try to cover my chest, but he pushes my arms away and tears off my lacy push-up bra with one hand. He reaches out, groping me crudely. Screams catch in my throat as pulls at my caramel waves. "Your hair is so sexy, Esme, I just love it. Does your husband make you scream like this, Esme? Does he?" I whimper pitifully, wishing I could regain control and drain him

"You're so cold, Esme, why is that?" he asks, licking my neck. I try to move, to run, but I can't. I'm physically unable to move as he assaults my body, taking every strand of my dignity with him.

"How many?" I croak, thinking of other women just like me being dealt the same fate.

His smile is nauseating, "More than I can count, and you're the easiest. I thought you'd at least put up a fight." Something about that peeks my anger, firing me to the point of boiling. But still I can't move, paralyzed and terrified over something as mundane as rape.

"Esme?" an angelic voice calls out. "Esme…oh my God…"

I feel a hard kick to my side and my paralyzed body falls over, my head clanging on the black asphalt loudly. "She's mine now, pretty boy." Something sharp is at my stomach.

I hear Carlisle's footsteps, "Do it, John. See what happens."

The knife shakes in the boy's hand, "I will, don't think I won't," he warns, pushing it closer to my bare stomach.

Carlisle's face is devoid of emotion, "Do it."

John's body is shaking worse now, his face wracked with nerves. Sweat pools above his lip and over his eyebrows. "You did this to her, you made her this way. She's just a slut."

I can practically feel Carlisle's anger rising, "Don't say that about my wife," he warns.

I don't know why he hasn't killed him yet. Does he think I'm still playing a game? I look up with pleading eyes, but he isn't looking at me, he's looking at the boy holding me in a python grip.

John speaks bold words, but he doesn't push the knife any further. Carlisle takes a step forward, and John counters it with a step back, pulling my limp form with him. Suddenly an arm snakes around my throat from behind, pulling me up into a higher position on my knees.

"You shouldn't have come back, I might have let her live," John said as he tried to push the knife into my stomach. "What the-"

Carlisle ran forward and grabbed the man, throwing him down on the pavement, cracking his skull. The bent knife lay unused on the ground, a reminder of what I am and what I can do.

My legs are shaky as I attempt to stand, using the wall as support. Rain pours from the sky, drenching my hair and causing it to stick to my face annoyingly.

A scream escapes from the man's lips, dying quickly in the downpour. Carlisle's iron grip shatters his bones, leaving him even more vulnerable. My husband towers over the man, rain dripping from his blonde hair. John tries desperately to fight him, to save his life, but his weak attacks are nothing against Carlisle's unyielding body armor.

"Please, show me mercy, please!" John cries in a child-like voice.

I regain my balance in full and stride over to my husband, staring down at the crumpled man before him. Diluted blood runs down his face and a large gash on his arm leaks the ruby red fluid. "You crazy bitch!" he screams. I suppose he's given up on asking for pity. "What are you?" he shrieks.

I bite my lip, readying an answer and then I feel someone shoving me. I crash onto the ground, splashing a rather large puddle of rain water and mud. I growl and stand up. This time I'm ready. This time I won't be the victim. He can't hurt me anymore.

My eyes lock on my attacker. Surprise fills my mind as I stare into her dark eyes. "What are you doing here, Bella?" I ask, perplexed by her sudden appearance.

"You can't do this, you'll regret it," she says feverishly, grabbing at my shoulders.

In my peripheral I can see Carlisle and Edward fighting. I race to help my husband, but Bella stops me, pushing me into the wall with anxious hands.

"Regret what?" I ask, grabbing her wrist and tossing her to the ground like a rag doll. She rebounds quickly, lunging for my throat. I swat her away mindlessly. She's nothing more than a child, and her fighting skills demonstrate that perfectly.

"You'll regret killing that innocent man," she responds, glancing at the dying man.

I scowl, "Innocent? He tried to rape me you idiot, he deserves nothing more than a long and painful death."

That doesn't seem to faze her much, "I know he did, but he's still just a human. He may have done something horrible to you, but that doesn't mean you have the right to kill him."

A loud crunch resounds over the rain, stopping both me and Bella. I glance around frantically, hoping it's not Carlisle who's hurt.

A sigh of relief leaves my lips as I see a Carlisle standing over a crumpled Edward, his face contorted and distraught. Bella rushes over to her ailing husband and Carlisle embraces me.

Through the chaos I can hear John's heart. It's slowing down, getting weaker and weaker. He's dying. I leave Carlisle's arms and walk over to the man, leaning down to get better access to his neck. "Remember me, ok John? I'm the last woman you will ever hurt." My lips pull back over my teeth involuntarily as the urge to bite becomes intolerable. I can't stop the beast now. But do I really want any part of this man, this man that hurt me so badly? The thought evaporates as my blood lust floods my system.

I can faintly hear voices telling me to stop, but I ignore them. Carlisle's reaches down and places his jacket over my shoulders as I drink. His blood is sweet, though a little tainted by frequent drug use. It flows down my throat and into my stomach, warming my cold dead body from the inside out. He stops struggling, his journey into death finally complete. His eyes still and his heart beats for the final time before falling silent.

Carlisle pulls me up gently. He wraps his arms around me, wiping the blood from my lips. "Carry me," I whisper. He nods and picks me up the way he did on our wedding day so long ago. I nestled my head into his chest, shutting my eyes.

He turns around for a second to look at Edward and Bella, "Take care of the body, Edward. Esme needs time."

The bronze haired boy nods, "I'm sorry we didn't get here sooner, we just thought she would handle it," he admitted.

Carlisle grimaced, "You know what she's been through, Edward. She's fragile. The two of you only made it worse."

I heard Bella sob softly, "I'm so sorry Carlisle. I-I didn't think this would happen. I'm sorry Esme, please forgive me. I didn't know what was going on!" Bella cried, raking her fingernails over the pavement.

Carlisle let out a low growl, "It's no use now Bella. I doubt she'll even open her mouth for weeks. I don't want to see either of you for the rest of the day so please stay in your cottage and I might talk to you tomorrow about what happened here," Carlisle said, anger tinting his voice.

"I don't know why I didn't hear them, Carlisle. I j-just messed up. I'm sorry," Edward said, but his attempts at an apology were fruitless. Carlisle wasn't going to accept any of them.

I whimper in Carlisle's arms and he holds me tighter. "It's going to be ok, Essie. You're going to be ok," he said, dropping a kiss on my closed eyelid.

My body felt numb as Carlisle placed me in his car, and turned the ignition. Every word I wanted to say died on my lips, cursing me to sit mute as the car rumbled through the city. "I'll get Rose and Emmett to come down here later today to get your car," Carlisle said quietly. His eyes darted from the road to me every few minutes. I could tell he was worried, but I couldn't reassure him and tell him I'm alright. I wouldn't lie to my husband.

Truthfully this event has only opened my eyes, and made me look at my life in a different way. I've always spoiled myself, and given into any and all temptations. I'm self-centered, and a fool because of it. Happiness doesn't come from money. It never has it never will. I've wasted years trying to run from my past and my demons, thinking they would go away if I covered them up with diamonds and pearls, but all I've done is bury them deeper, allowing them to grow stronger.

"It's going to be ok, Esme. I'll make you feel better," Carlisle says, rubbing a thumb over my wrist amiably.

I can't help but hear Charles's voice in the back of my mind.

_You belong in hell._

**OoOoOoO**

**Reviews are very much appreciated!**


	7. Pain and Misery

**Ok so I know it's been a while but I finally got around to writing this thing. It's really short (I know) but I really think this story is **_**essential **_**to the story line (hope you got the reference) And I adored all the lovely reviews I got on the last chapter, you guys are amazing! I also got a few links on my profile page up for the new Cullen house and some of Esme's outfits, so check those out too. Enough with my babbling, let's get this show on the road!**

**DC: I don't own twilight or its characters**

**OoOoOoO**

"_A broken bone can heal, but the wound a word opens can fester forever." _

_-Jessamyn West _

_Cullen House_

Carlisle POV

She looks pitiful as she lies on our bed, a quilt wrapped around her bare body. Her eyes are so lifeless, as if her soul had been sucked out along with her dignity. Her makeup lay untouched; she hasn't put any on since the accident. That's what everyone's taken to calling it, 'the accident'. It wasn't an accident thought, that human knew what he was doing. He didn't slip and fall on my wife with a knife, he tried _to kill her. _He wanted to murder the only reason for my existence, my exquisite wife. She hasn't talked to me at all. She hasn't even let me touch her or hold her. Her whimpers of pain are endless and Edward tells me the memories she holds are some of the worst he's ever seen.

She's broken. I always knew she was fragile, I always knew she walked the thin line between depression and confidence. I always thought I'd be able to take care of her, to keep my chine doll safe in this big house. But the demons found their way in, piercing her mind and destroying her from the inside out. She never stops sobbing, her body heaving and convulsing under her misery and unshed tears.

I sit next to her, trying to connect with her in any way, trying to heal her. I try rubbing circles on her back like she always liked, but she shrinks away from my touch, crawling to the other side of the bed. Her hair is matted from days of lying in the same position and it's lost its luster.

The first day I tried to dress her, but she refused the offer with a groan. So she uses the quilt Rosalie made for her a few years back as a makeshift mourning gown, her face buried in its depths. Her shaking body raises my anger, making me shake as well. That man has forced me to watch my wife crumble without even an apology before she took his sorry life. How could someone do this? How could someone be that evil?

Esme moans, shutting her eyes, her face contorted in pain. Her covered body curls into a ball, tendrils of hair blocking me from seeing her face. A sob escapes from her chest, hurting me much worse than any fire. 

"Essie, please talk to me. Please just say anything, I love you too much to sit here and watch you waste away," I plead desperately.

Her ruby eyes open, dark lashes bashing with the beginnings of tears. She shakes her head, throwing it against the bed angrily. "No!" she screams, her body wracking itself with sobs. "No!" she cries again, making me jump.

I climb onto the bed, wrapping an arm around my wife's shoulders. For the first time she allows me, even sinking into my embrace. "No what, Essie?" I implore, brushing her hair soothingly.

"No…no…no," she says quietly, running a hand down my cheek in a desperate plea for understanding. Her normally immaculate nails are chipped and sharp.

"I want to help you, but you need to tell me more," I said, trying to coax the information out of her like a child.

Her mouth opens, and then closes, as if the words won't come out. Her teeth chatter insistently as I await an answer from my wife.

"No."

"No what?" I demand.

"I-I-I…no," she looks up at me through heavy lidded eyes and I sigh. I wish I could help her, or at least get through to her, but I can't. John tore her to pieces, and time is the only healer to her wounds.

"Well," I start, checking my watch nonchalantly, "It's 4 o'clock, do you want to go downstairs and see everyone else?" I inquire, brushing a few fingers across her porcelain cheek.

Her bottom lip quivers slightly and she begins to cry again, burying her face in a pillow. Her hair fans out and pity spills into my heart. "You have to get up sometime, Essie. Don't you realize that everything is ok?"

She lifts her head from the pillow; her eyes alit with new anger. I feel her body tense beside me as her muscles clench. "No, Carlisle, everything is not ok! If everything was ok then I wouldn't be lying on this fucking bed crying my fucking eyes out wrapped in this fucking quilt!" she cried, tearing a hole in the fabric Rose had so carefully constructed.

I was glad she was talking, though I wished it wasn't quite so volatile, but I suppose you get what you can get, right? I glanced back over at my wife, she was weeping again, her naked form shuddering.

"I thought I would be ok. I thought I could handle everything. I thought that if I just ignored it, and pushed it away that everything would be ok. I'm selfish, Carlisle. And I'm a complete and utter bitch. And you know what? I am a slut. Hell, I'm a _vapid slut. _But it's not your fault, Carlisle. It's mine. I did this to myself, and there's no one to blame but me. And I can blame Charles for making me so breakable, but in all reality it's not his fault. I'm broken. No matter how many times you try to put me back together, or glue together the pieces I'm never going to stay together for long. I love material things, like money and clothes and shoes, but they can't help me either. Nothing can, because I'm hopeless. For God's sake I don't even know why you stayed with me so long, Carlisle! Is it because I'm pretty? Is it because I have a good body? I guess you didn't think that behind that pretty face is a broken woman with scars that can't heal. I'm disgusting, Carlisle, so just leave me. Leave me like you should have ninety years ago. I love you so much, but you shouldn't have to love someone like me," she took a deep breath, her eyes wide after her little tirade. I heard voices and footsteps downstairs. Everyone must be just as surprised by Esme's outburst as me.

"Leave!" she cried, tearing at the sheets. She grabbed my arm, pushing me off the bed forcefully. "Leave and never come back! You deserve better! Do you remember the second time I met you, in that store and you were leaning across the counter flirting with that young blonde girl? Go find someone like her. Someone that won't break down halfway through."

I crumpled on the hardwood, every word striking at my heart. "What are you saying Essie? I love you for you!" I exclaimed, standing back up and taking my wife's hand gently.

She yanked it away with a scowl, "Do you really? Because Charles only married me because he wanted something that wouldn't put up a fight. He got it, by the way. I'm a whore," she said, separating each syllable, making it hurt that much.

How could she say these things about herself? I always knew Charles hurt her badly, but it seems like the seed for her misery was planted much earlier, in her childhood. I wanted to hear more about her time in Ohio, to really get to the bottom of this story once and for all. I would do anything to get my Esme back, even if it means rousing ugly memories.

"Don't you dare say that Esme Anne Platt Cullen! You are a good person with a good heart, you just need to look within yourself and find the real you," I reasoned, picking her up and setting her on the fluffy white rug on the floor. I sat down next to her, placing her head in my lap carefully. She mewled but didn't resist.

"This is the real me. Broken and helpless," she retorted, pouting sadly.

"I find that very hard to believe, Esme. This isn't you at all. The woman that bossed me around the woods a couple days ago, that's the real you," I chuckled, pulling my wife closer.

"That's the old me. I'm different now. I've changed, and not in a good way," she said, purposefully avoiding her gaze.

I got up suddenly, pushing Esme off my lap. She growled and shot me a look that reminded me of the old Esme. I smiled as I grabbed her purse, rifling through its contents with one goal in mind. "You haven't smoked in days Esme," I reminded her, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. The first step to getting her to tell me about her past is to get her comfortable. Esme is never more comfortable then when she's got a Virginia Slim between her lips. I wave the pack in front of her face enticingly.

"I shouldn't," she said, pulling her gaze from the pack. She wrung her hands nervously, making me grin.

"Why not?" I asked, pulling a stick from the pack and lighting it easily. She took it quickly, her eyes wide with want. She took a long drag, blowing the smoke out quickly, as if to dispel her sadness.

"Do you want to talk?" I asked her gently, rubbing her wrist soothingly. She sighed, sticking the cigarette in her mouth for another moment before pulling it out and blowing a cloud of smoke into the air.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asked innocently, as if she hadn't just blown up mere minutes before.

"You rarely speak about your life in Ohio, Essie. If I ever really want to understand you, I need to know everything. The ups and the downs."

Her lips curled and she shot me a menacing look, "You want to know about my life before Charles?"

I nodded and gave her a sympathetic look.

"Fine," she said, tapping her cigarette on a crystal ash tray. "I was born in a tiny two-bedroom house on the outskirts of Columbus, Ohio. I lived a boring childhood, surround by annoying younger siblings and stern parents. I always wanted to see more, but my family couldn't afford to send me anywhere, so I took the problem in my own hands. There was a man that lived way out, in a huge mansion all by himself. Everyone knew he had lots of money, and a peculiar taste for younger women, so I decided to pay him a visit and see what I could get from the old man. I was nineteen then, and just begging to get out of Ohio. I was desperate in every sense of the word. On my first visit he gave me a pair of earrings, and on my second a necklace. He didn't ask for anything in return until my fourth visit, where he demanded I undress in front of him. I needed the money badly, so I did, though I felt guilty afterwards. On my fifth visit he wanted more, and I gave it to him," she laughed darkly, "and you know what he gave me for it? A baby, a damn baby! I was so embarrassed that I didn't even tell my parents until it became too much to hide. They were angry of course, but more than anything they were concerned. You were alive during the early 1900's, and you know no man wants a pregnant wife. My parents searched everywhere, but it was no use, once they saw my belly they didn't want me. By the time Charles came to town I was well into my seventh month, huge by any standards. Who knows why he wanted me. I suppose I was pretty, even as a human. I think he later regretted it, actually I know he later regretted it. He told me before he stabbed me," she said, her face devoid of any emotion. "He asked my parents if he could court me, and of course they said yes. He told me he was from New York, which excited me very much. At that time I had never really seen a big city aside from Columbus, and I was itching to see the famous New York, New York. He loved my curiosity and immature behavior, and more than anything he loved to spoil me. He would take me to town while we were dating and buy me anything and everything. I adored him and his money, as did my parents. The town talked of course, questioning why a pregnant teenager was walking around with an older man, but I let them. See, Carlisle, I thought I was in love. I thought Charles would fix all my problems, and make all my worries disappear. I was a naïve and stupid little girl that should have stayed In Ohio where she belonged. But I didn't. Charles engaged and we married in Saint Thomas Church in New York. It was a beautiful wedding. My dress was expensive and long, and the ring was gorgeous. I thought my life was perfect, until the night of my wedding. Charles was not the gentle man he let off to be. I was already swollen and in pain because of the baby, and he only made it worse. I never told anyone what Charles did to me that night, since I knew no one would really care. I was alone in the big city. True, I lived in the lap of luxury but was I happy? No. I wasn't happy. Until you came. You changed my life, Carlisle. You made me happy, and I've been happy ever since," she looked down, her eyes dark. "Well, I was happy, and then this happened and I don't know if I can move on. How can I move on when even today men can take advantage of me?" she asked the beginning of a sob at the back of her throat.

I took a moment for her story to sink in. I had already heard some of it, other parts I had never heard before, and much to my dismay they were the worst parts. "Did he rape you, Essie?" I asked solemnly, grabbing her hand and pulling it to my heart gently.

She took in a deep breath, adjusting her form aimlessly. I could tell she was trying to avoid the question. "Answer me Esme," I said sternly.

She eyed me, her mouth set in a tight grimace, "Why the fuck do you care if he raped me? He's dead Carlisle. I killed him. I drained him just like he drained me. It doesn't fucking matter what he did to me!" she cried, jumping up from the rug and running to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her loudly.

**OoOoOoO**

Bella POV

"Don't you dare blame all this on me!" Edward screamed, punching the wall with a balled up fist. The plaster gave way leaving a nasty hole. I grimaced but kept my position on the couch.

"I'm not blaming this on you, but some of it _is _your fault," I reasoned.

He looked at me incredulously, "My fault? You wanted me to go! If you hadn't had said anything then…then…" his voice faded as his brow furrowed.

"Then she would still be hurting," I reminded him easily. "True we made it worse, and more complicated, but she would still be in pain."

Edward's stance eased and he slumped to the floor, his head in his hands. "I just can't believe this happened. I can't believe I let it! How could we have been so stupid? I should have heard her thoughts, and his. What is this stupid gift even worth if I can't save anyone?" he asked miserably.

I shook my head, "Your gift isn't stupid, and their thoughts were all over. It's not your fault that you couldn't read them."

"Carlisle's right. She's so fragile. Her past is so horrific…and…I wish I could do something. I know you don't really know this Esme, but I do and I know she's a little rough around the edges, hell we all are, but she's family, and family is supposed to help family. Right?" he asked, raising his head. His eyes were dark and his hair was mussed from his frequent spouts of anger.

"I suppose so," I agreed. "You should try to help her."

"I can't. She's messed up right now; I bet Carlisle isn't even getting through to her right now."

I nodded, "Neither of them has left their room." I remembered the times when Esme would slip and Carlisle would spend his days by her bedside, trying desperately to pull her out of her stupor. At those times the family always felt abandoned, as did I. We forgot how much Carlisle cares about Esme and how, no matter what, she will always come first.

"Carlisle said he would talk to us. He must have forgotten," Edward said a twinge of anger still evident in his voice.

"Can you blame him? His wife is practically wasting away right now," I snapped. I felt truly sorry for both Esme and Carlisle. I didn't really know either of them that well, but what happened to Esme truly seemed like something that would happen to the _real _Esme. She's fragile too. I suppose some things never change.

"Yea I know, but there are other people that need him too! He's being a complete ass as usual," Edward shot back, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

"No he's not! He loves his wife and he's helping her through this tough time, why can't you see that?" I inquired, genuinely curious.

"She's probably just lying on her bed doing absolutely nothing! Why does she need Carlisle? To watch her breath?" he asked angrily.

"To help her! Just a moment ago you were full of pity and now look at you! You can't even get a handle on yourself! You're just as crazy as the rest of them!" I countered, standing up and walking to the bedroom.

I heard Edward call for me, but I ignored him. I thought he was the same person, but I was very wrong. My body fell on the bed, my face hitting the pillows.

"I want to go home," I murmured into the pillow.

**OoOoOoO**

**Reviews equal love…so give me lots of love! And I love ideas of any sort, I read every single one! I would love to know your input on this chapter btw…it's short but I put a lot of thought in it. And just for the record I won't be updating anything for a while…going on vacation! Remember to check out my other stories…all are C/Es of course…**

**Born to Die: C/Es Carlisle and Esme's relationship has always been complicated to say the least. Break-up after break-up they keep on coming back to eachother. They are the defintion of star-crossed lovers. But when Carlisle becomes sick of the routine will he end up hurting the only one who truly loves him? And will Esme ever find Carlisle again? Song fic for LDR's Born To Die. AH oneshot**

**Keep Me Close: The Volturi didn't leave without taking something with them. Esme is captured by the Volturi, and it's up to Carlisle to save her. But the Volturi have some tricks up their sleeves, tricks that will make Esme never want to go back to Forks. COMPLETE C/E R&R POST BD Sequel up now: Never Let Me Go**

**Never Let Me Go: Sequel to Keep Me Close. The Volturi are dead but Esme is still haunted by their demons. All of her memories are gone and her bloodlust is overwhelming. Esme has become a different person, but Carlisle believes he can get the old her back. Can he? KMC summary inside All Cannon Post BD C/E Love, Angst, Fluff R&R **

**Lots of love! R&R**


	8. Is This a Hotel?

**I have officially decided to change all the Cullens back, one at a time. The catch? Well, you'll have to read and find out!**

**OoOoOoO**

Bella P.O.V

"Bella? What are you doing here?" Esme asked meekly, the corner of the bathroom swallowing her up almost completely. Her robe was pulled around her tightly, and her hair pulled back carelessly, as if it was a last ditch effort to look presentable.

It had been two weeks since Esme's melt down and she had yet to leave her bathroom, not even once. Carlisle had been trying, but even he can only do so much. Rosalie brings her blood, which she sometimes drinks, other times not.

It's hard to believe that such a strong willed woman could become _this _in just a few days. It's ridiculous, and completely terrifying.

The cowardly vampire reminded me of the old Esme in her moments of despair. Withdrawn, and filled with sorrow define the woman's worst days perfectly. I suppose some things never change.

"I came to clean up your bathroom," I said, gesturing towards the mop and pail I had dragged in. She eyed the items with distaste and pulled her knees to her stomach. Her eyelids dropped and her voice was low as she spoke.

"Leave. Now," she commanded, turning away from me, her arms hugging her legs.

"Nope," I said simply, picking up a sponge from the bucket. I still loved Esme, and I was going to try and help her, even if it means getting her a little angry first. Edward had truly abandoned any thought of saving Esme, but I beg to differ. Hope lives everywhere, even in this hell I've had to call home for over two weeks.

I promised myself I would try and fix Esme before I began planning an escape. I knew it didn't really matter, but I couldn't help but think that if this is some sort of parallel universe Esme would live the rest of her life in misery. Of course this could be something totally different, but I don't want to take any chances.

Water pools on the counter as I pull the sponge across the mirror, the strong scent hitting my nose almost immediately. I moved to the second mirror, a large ornate one hanging over a gold rimmed sink. I knew this was Esme's, and I planned to use that fact against her. I would get her to show me something.

I pressed the sponge into the mirror with extra force. It was expensive glass, but no match for vampire strength. I thrust my other hand into the mirror quickly, glass falling onto the floor in shiny shards.

I hear a sharp gasp behind me as the incident registers In Esme's mind, "W-why…Why the hell did you do that!" she screamed, jumping up and pushing me into the wall. My back flattened against the tile, my hands limp. This was what she needed. Emotion. She hadn't shown any since she locked herself in this damn bathroom. This was good, a big step.

"I'm sorry," I muttered as her grip loosed. She flexed her hands and turned around, her billowy robe floating around her like waves in the ocean. Her eyes were steel as she glanced over her shoulder at me.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked quietly, her gaze softening, her words choked.

I slowly walked over to the frail looking woman, brushing away the glass carefully. "Because you mean something to me, Esme. Before I leave I want you to be happy," I responded innocently, brushing a strand away from her face.

"Leave?" she asked fervently, "Why would you leave?"

"Esme I-I see the old you, that's why I'm going to be honest with you," my voice was shaky as I stared into Esme's doe like eyes.

"Old me? Bella what are you-"Esme's eyes rolled back as her body connected with the marble floor, her granite body cracking it deeply.

"Esme!" I screamed, diving towards the woman I once considered my mother.

I shook her body gently, with no avail. Her head leaned back as I picked her up, my mind trying to decide what to do. Was she dead or just sleeping? Did she faint again, like all of them had weeks ago? Seeds of worry planted themselves in my brain as I carried the limp Esme to her bedroom, setting her down on the bed carefully.

"Why do you guys always have to go and faint on me," I sighed, pushing a strand of hair from Esme's face.

"Bella?" Carlisle said, throwing open the door. "I heard commotion and- Oh God, what did you do?" he cried, grabbing his wife, pulling her away from me. "What did you do to my wife?" he snarled, carrying Esme to the couch, his footsteps heavy.

"Nothing I was just talking to her in the bathroom and she just fainted," I explained my tone steady. Carlisle eyed me suspiciously.

"Did you say something to prompt this, something offensive?" he spat the last word out, his voice accusing.

"_No. She just fainted. _I don't know what caused it. What should we do?" I asked, worried I really did kill the caramel haired woman.

Carlisle knelt beside his wife, tracing her jaw-line with his fingers. "What _can _we do? No one else cares, besides Rose, and it's not like we can bring her to a hospital," Carlisle said, bowing his head, saddened by his own words.

"So that's it? We just wait?" I asked, surprised Carlisle didn't want to do more. Before he was always on top of everything, ready for the challenge, but now he's seems almost childlike, his chin resting on the stomach of his lover as he waits for her to rise.

"Yes, we wait. Now leave. I want to be alone with my wife," he demanded, shooing me away.

"Should I send Rosalie in, she might be of assistance," I offered, opening the door hesitantly.

"No, I don't want to see anyone now. It's my fault she's like this and I want to suffer alone," he said, placing a chaste kiss on Esme's forehead.

"Your fault? None of this is your fault, Carlisle. I don't know whose fault it is, but it's not yours. Trust me," I told him, giving him one last look before shutting the door behind me.

**OoOoOoO**

Carlisle POV

"Please baby, don't leave me now," I cooed, smoothing Esme's hair, her beautiful face devoid of all emotion. I grabbed a

"You know how I need you. I don't know what's happening, or why it's happening to us, just promise me you'll wake up. I don't know how much longer I can take this, Essie. These constant obstacles and decisions…do you remember life before all this? Way back when love was all anyone needed and the world hadn't been tainted by the obsessive need for sex and money and – oh, who am I kidding we've always been like that. Sometimes I just wish, things were different, you know? Remember that time I took you to Cape Cod and we took the ferry to Nantucket? I didn't plan the trip very well and we ended up hiding behind trees all day, but you told me it was the greatest day of your life. Because you said that, it too became the greatest day of _my _life, just because you were so happy and we were so deeply in love. I can still see that day in my mind; it's practically burned into my brain. You were standing on the beach, your dress whipping around your legs, your hat about to fly off, you looked so natural there. And then you told me you wanted to go for a swim, and you did! Jumped right into the surf without even a second thought. I offered to buy you another dress to replace the wet one, but you declined, saying the salty smell would remind you of the ocean all day long. People stared, but I'm sure they were more surprised by the fact that such a lovely lady would want a guy like me. I still don't know why you chose me, out of all the men in the world. You're so perfect, my sweet Esme, my only sunshine, please come back to me," I whispered the last part, kissing her earlobe tenderly.

She didn't move her sleeping from remaining in the same rigid position. "It's ok. We have time. You'll come back, you always do and when you do I'll be here, waiting for you to open those big eyes of yours."

"And Esme, if you're scared of what's happened please don't cower behind shut eyes. You're stronger than that. We can do it, together. I just need you to wake up, please," I whimpered, my eyes glistening with venom. What if she's stuck in some sort of coma? What if she never wakes up?

The thought made my stomach churn and my teeth clench in pain. I'd become a living corpse, sitting next to my sleeping beauty day and night. Cullen inc. would be run into the ground by idiots as I worshipped something that had already left this world.

I buried my face in Esme's shirt, relishing the smell of her. I couldn't leave her, not now not ever, even if she is gone. Her breathing was steady, but did it sometimes sound labored, as if she's on her last leg of life? Can a vampire die like this, so peacefully and without even a spark?

Harsh sobs racked my body as I stared at my lover's body, wishing I had never pulled that damn boy into the hallway at work. Then Esme wouldn't have seen my jealously, and she wouldn't have tried to kill him. She would have been safe in my arms, alive and well. "I'm so sorry, Esme," I cried, gripping her wrist with both hands. "I was so stupid. Sometimes I take for granted everything you've given me, every kiss every embrace. Sometimes I fool myself into believing I deserve you, when I don't. I never deserved you."

"I don't deserve you," a breathy voice answered. Esme's lungs filled with a deep breath under me, causing me to jump to my feet. Esme's eyes opened slowly, her tongue coming out to lick her lips slowly.

Thank God, or whoever's up there! She's ok, or at least she looks ok. I quickly grabbed her, helping her into a sitting position. "Thank you, Carlisle," she said, nicely, folding her hands in her lap.

I ignored in the odd gesture and got down to the questions, "Are you ok? What happened? Do you remember anything?" I asked, stroking her hand.

Her mouth pouted cutely and she nodded her head, "I'm fine, or at least I feel fine, though I have no idea where I am. Is this a hotel? What awful décor," she mused, raising an eyebrow at the gaudy canopy. "But everyone has different tastes, I suppose. Oh yes, the last thing I remember would be running through the forest with you. Your hair looks different, here let me fix it," Esme said kindly, reaching forward to come my hair back instead of to the side. "Much better."

I coughed lightly and nodded, "I too remember running through the forest with you, but honey that happened _weeks _ago, and you've been awake since then. Are you sure you don't remember anything else?" I asked, searching her red eyes for answers.

She pursed her lips, "I'm sorry but that's the last thing I can clearly recall. Where are the children, are they ok? Did I faint or something?" Esme said, placing a hand of the side of her head.

"We don't have any children, baby. Did you hit your head going down?" I guessed, sliding onto the couch so I could wrap an arm around her shoulders.

Her eyes widened and she turned toward me, her hands trembling. "Did something happen to them while I was gone? Oh my, I would never be able to forgive myself if anything happened to them! I suppose I fainted, though I don't know how, or why. And can you please tell me where I am?" she asked sternly. She almost reminded me of a mother, the thought sickening me.

"Everyone is fine, but you. Obviously you hit your head or something because Esme, this is your bedroom. We're at our house in Forks, where we live," I clarified.

Esme looked around the impressive room, her eyes glazed. "This _is not our room. _ I would never match those curtains with that bedspread, it just doesn't work! And this design is so gaudy, I did _not _design this," Esme said, getting up to inspect the room, her fingers tracing every surface as if to make sure it was all real.

"Jasper and Emmett did, babe. You told me you didn't want to, that interior design is overrated," I said as she inspected he purse with was lying on the floor. She picked up the handbag prudently, arranging its contents on her vanity.

"I don't remember having this much makeup," Esme muttered as she unloaded the bags contents, flipping each item over in her hand. "And I _really _don't remember ever owning this," she pulled a bright red thong out of the hand bag, her face marred with disgust.

"That's one of your favorites, Esme. It's a good thing you found it, I thought you left it at the beach last summer," I confessed, picking up the bit of lace and running it between my fingers. "You look so cute in it," I promised her; pulling her towards me so I could wrap it around her clothed waist.

Esme's eyes widened again and she snapped her head down, obviously embarrassed. What did I do? "Why do I have these?" she asked, holding up a pack of cigarettes, the contents already half gone. Did she want me to buy her another pack?

"Um, because you smoke? Here, let me light one for you," I insisted, grabbing the pack and pulling a cigarette out. My fingers grappled at the lighter in my pocket, finally gripping the plastic box. I lit the end for her offering it to her. She shook her head nervously.

"I don't smoke," she said, eyeing the burning nicotine with wanting eyes.

"Yes you do, now take this and inhale. Trust me, you'll be feeling better in a matter of seconds," I promised, sticking the cigarette between her fingers.

"I don't know, Carlisle," she said, twisting the stick slowly.

"It's fine, just do it," I said, encouraging her.

She pulled in a deep drag, her eyes closing as her brain processed the tobacco. She blew out a cloud of smoke, her lips turning into a half-smile. "Well, that's marvelous. Much better than I thought it'd be. I've never liked the smell really," she said, sucking down another breath.

"Ok, sure, whatever you say Essie," I said nonchalantly, ignoring my wife's ignorance. "Is there anything you want to look at?"

She tapped her chin and smiled, showing two cute dimples, "I'd love to see what the closet looks like in this crazy dream."

Dream? What was she talking about now? "Esme, this isn't a dream. This is your life," I assured her hesitantly, hoping I wouldn't break her after she just woke up.

"Alright, I'll go along with it for now. I suppose the real you came up with something that can provide us with sleep. How nice. I can't wait to wake up with you in my arms. Maybe you'll be able to make something that will be offer us with children, wouldn't that be great?" she asked, clasping her hands together and smiling sweetly.

Kids? Sleep? What the hell is wrong with my wife? "Are you playing some sort of joke on me, Essie? Because if you are it isn't funny," I said, mimicking the stern tone she had used on me earlier.

Her brow furrowed and she crossed her arms, "Why would I be doing that? Oh forget it, this isn't real anyway. I just want to see what my subconscious made up."

I sighed deeply and forced a smile. She was definitely pulling a joke on me, but I could take it. "Well, your first closet is right here," I said, opening up the white door labeled with a red 'E'. She gasped as she took in the huge amounts of clothes, shoes, and other accessories.

"Is this all mine, not Alice's?" she asked, flicking through a line of dresses.

"All yours honey," I promised, standing by the door frame casually. Her odd remarks wouldn't catch me off guard, not anymore.

"This must have cost a fortune," she mused, leaning down to look at her Jimmy Choo shoe collection.

I laughed, nodding my head, "It did, but it was all worth it, trust me. My little spoiled princess deserves anything she wants."

"Spolied?" Esme murmured as she neared the back of the closet, her footsteps becoming quieter and quieter.

"Quite," I assured her. I peered through the racks of clothes, catching the sight of my wife's hips swaying seductively as she rifled through her past purchases, her tight dress clinging to her skin. I adjusted my pants, embarrassed that I was lusting after her in such a situation. I swear, I sometimes act more like a teenager then a century's old vampire.

"Carlisle, what's – oh my!" she quipped, the lid from a box sliding from her hands.

"What?" I asked, racing toward her. I peeked over her shoulder, laughing lightly as I studied its contents.

"One of your old favorites," I reminded her, leaning forward to grasp a pink collar, the bell ringing softly.

Esme stared at me, totally in shock. "Can we leave?" she whispered, eyeing the door.

I shrugged, dropping the collar she used to love so dearly. "Whatever you want."

She nodded and grabbed my hand, lacing her fingers with my own. I stared at her, shocked by her show of innocent affection. "Esme," I started, my hand pulling away instinctively.

"Please. I know this isn't real, but…" her voice faded off as she clung to my hand, her head bowing as I guided her out of the closet.

"What's going on with you, Essie?" I asked my voice more serious then I intended. Games are fun for a little while, but I want my wife back.

Her lips parted slightly as she looked up, our eyes meeting for a moment, "I don't know. It's just a dream though, Carlisle. We'll wake up soon and everything will be back to normal. You'll see, everything is going to be ok," she promised, running a thumb over my cheek.

My dead heart fluttered at her words, my lips wanting nothing more than to kiss her. "Show me," I murmured.

She leaned in, her breath tickling my neck invitingly. As always she tasted sweet, but in a different way. She guided me, taking the lead much to my surprise. A moan escaped my lips and she pulled away, her lips glistening with venom.

"I would say your better in my dreams, but I would be lying," she confessed, a grinning lighting up her face.

I raised an eyebrow, "Oh really?"

"Sorry, Carlisle," she laughed, skipping over to the door. "Care to show me the rest of the house?"

"You've already seen it all, since you _live here _but sure. Come on," I said, guiding her into the hallway.

"So gaudy," she said her smile fading as she studied the decorations.

"You used to love it," I muttered, "You probably still do, this is all just a joke right?"

She laughed, "It's just a dream, the first of many I suppose. And I'm going to enjoy it!"

I sighed loudly, "Fine, whatever. I'll talk to Rosalie about it later. Well, I suppose I'll show you your _second _closet now. I'm sure you'll be quite surprised now that your 'innocent Esme'," I mused, walking over to the door, Esme a few paces behind me.

"What is it?" she asked, excitedly.

"You'll see," I said, reaching into my pocket to grasp the key that would open the door. I eased it into the lock, flicking the door with my wrist, the hinges squeaking hauntingly as it opened.

"All your, my dear," I said, extending my arm dramatically. Esme's mouth flew open, her eyes extending to the size of saucers.

"Dear God," she whispered.

**OoOoOoO**

**What will Esme's reaction be? You guys decide! Will she love it, hate it, or die in embarrassment? Please review!**

**And for those saying: "Why does Esme still smoke?" my answer is this: Though Esme's mind has changed back to its original state we accompany it with when thinking of **_**Twilight **_**her body hasn't, and *spoiler alert* it won't. I've decide to keep their physical states the same, so the house will stay that way as well (or until Esme can get around to fixing it, which no doubt will be very soon). I decided to do this not because I wanted an ugly Rosalie or a weak Emmett, but because I wanted them to remember their change. Sure Esme will, and Bella will too, but what if the house and everyone's appearances changed the second Esme woke up? It would be a very confusing, hard to write story that would take up too much of my brain. So, Esme's body still has an addiction to nicotine and still needs it, but Esme's mind doesn't remember ever smoking in the first place. I know, still complicated, but I'm trying! If you have any questions just PM me or put them in a review and I'll get back to you!**

**You guys are the best! **


	9. A Shiny New Face

**Super short chapter, but I wanted to get it out before I really started to get busy with work :/ Please read the Author's Note at the bottom! I really don't know what to do, so your guy's opinions would be awesome! **

**On with the show!**

**OoOoOoO**

Esme POV

Carlisle and I are not what you would call 'adventurous' in the bedroom, unlike many of our children. True, there have been incidents where I'd find something of Rosalie's or Emmett's that would have me slightly curious, but I would never actually _try _them. Or would I? I have been married to Carlisle for almost a century, and though we are always pleased things have started to get a little boring. Same position, same time, same _everything. _I would have already done something about it if the subject weren't so blatantly embarrassing, and if Carlisle weren't so conservative. It's nice sometimes, to have him take my every need into consideration, but sometimes I just want him to let loose for once and have fun. And of course he's always asked me to dress traditionally under my clothes, saying the bright colors and lace that defines 21st century underwear is 'completely uncalled for in the cycle of women's clothing styles'.

I kept my thoughts compressed, not wanting to upset my husband with my want for something new and exciting. As odd as it sounds I've changed little in the ways of undergarments since my human days in the 1920's. Back then women were told to wear corsets, stockings and garters, none of them very comfortable, much to my ire. I tried to move on, stay with the modern fashions, but Carlisle never seemed to like them, so I was forced to tie myself into a waist-shrinking contraption every day, the pain not nearly as excruciating as it was when I was human, but still fairly uncomfortable.

My hands go down to my stomach, pulling open the robe just a tad so my fingertips can feel the soft skin there. A sigh escapes my lips as I notice there's no coarse ribbing there, no confining straps or buckles. My mind almost forgot about the monstrosity in front of me as freedom registered in my mind for the first time since my teenage years. I had always wondered why Carlisle wanted me to wear a corset so badly, I wasn't fat, a little soft from my human pregnancy, but not fat. As my fingers probed my stomach I noticed they sunk in just a tad more than they had a few days ago. Still not fat, just softer. I brushed the thought away and focused on the room Carlisle had opened up for me.

I had never seen so much lace in one room before, not even Alice's closet which is really saying something. Black and pink appeared to dominant the room, a bubblegum color splashing onto the walls and a dark molten color gleaming on the floor. Mirrors were prominent, covering all available surfaces, as was ribbon which lined the hangers holding up the scandalous garments. Rainbow colored light flashed across the silky satin lingerie, a few rays hitting crystals and diamonds that encrusted a number of bras and panties. The sight was so scandalous, so indecent, so immoral, and such a turn-on.

I jumped at the thought, my hand going to my mouth. Did I really just think that?

I heard Carlisle's mischievous laugh behind me, his hands snaking around my waist seductively. "Surprised, baby?"

The question sounded rhetorical and slightly sarcastic but I nodded anyway, my lips falling open a bit as I studied a nearby sheer pink negligee. It was surprisingly cute, and actually reminded me of something I had seen a few years ago while on one of Alice's many shopping trips. My daughter had pushed me to buy it, but I ended up returning it later, too embarrassed to put it on in front of Carlisle.

I reached out and grabbed its hanger, the material shaking slightly at the sudden movement. I held it out in front of me, imagining how I would look in it. Trashy? Sexy? A little bit of both?

A sigh escaped me as I hung the negligee back up, my self-image slipping. I'd never thought of myself as beautiful or even pretty. Why would I when I see Rosalie every day? She was more attractive than me when she was a human and I was a vampire. I remember when Carlisle found her dying in the streets of New York and brought her back to our house to change her. The second I saw her I knew what was going on, or at least I _thought _I knew what was going on, I thought Carlisle had replaced me. It wasn't a farfetched idea; she was just so lovely and looked like the angel to Carlisle's God-like status. Edward had scolded me for thinking such things and promised me that Carlisle loved me and would always love me, but I never really believed him. I cursed Rosalie's loveliness that she took so vainly, and although I felt guilty about it later I never took it back. She hasn't matured yet, grown up and seen the real world, though when I saw what those men had done to her I thought she had grown up. But tragic events aren't always supplements for years, and Rosalie has shown that to me many times. Decades ago, way before Bella, Rosalie had the audacity to ask me how _I_ got such a 'fine hunk of ass' because apparently I'm a bit 'bland'. The insult had angered me to no end, though I hid it well. Rosalie never apologized and we never brought it up again. If I had said that about Emmett I probably wouldn't be alive right now, but she can say that about Carlisle? I love Rosalie, I do, she was my first daughter after all, but she needs to learn something.

I shake my head slightly as I tried to block out the thoughts about my oldest daughter. I would have to talk with her once I wake up.

"You ok, Esme?" Carlisle asked softly, letting go of my waist so he could look into my eyes. I blinked a few times but nodded slowly.

"I'm fine, it's just that – oh!" I gasped as my gaze shifted from Carlisle to a mirror, the reflection a true shock.

My hands touched the smooth glass as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. Was that really me? Of course not, this is a dream. This isn't reality, because in reality I don't have red eyes, or that face, or that body…_what happened to me?_

"Esme?" Carlisle said, grabbing my shoulder. I shrugged him off and got closer to the mirror, inspecting my heart shaped face.

Two bright red eyes stared back at me, lined with dark black eyelashes and two perfectly plucked eyebrows. My lips shone a rosy pink, two soft dimples to either side. I suppose my features looked fairly the same, but when you stopped focusing on the smaller details and looked at the big picture it was enough to stop you in your tracks. I was even more beautiful than Rosalie, a thought that had me swelling with guilt. Did I really want beauty so much that my subconscious made sure I was attractive even in my dreams? I frowned, hoping to mar the image though if anything it made it more desirable, a cute pouty young woman.

I shrugged the robe I was wearing off, letting it fall and pool around my ankles, revealing a lacy mint green bra and matching panties. Though the bits of lace covering me were hardly promiscuous when compared to what adorned the racks in this room, they still had me thoroughly embarrassed. My hands traveled down my body, landing on my slightly wider and softer hips, the lace scratchy against my fingers. I notice my breasts look fuller, going up a size or two, not that I'm complaining, I always felt a little cheated in that category anyway. I feel a bit softer everywhere, but my body seemed to put the new pounds in the right places, accenting my curves very nicely. I turn around to get a better look at my lace covered bum, and Carlisle chuckles.

"Like what you see?" he guesses, leaning against a rack of shiny pink bras.

Ashamed of my show of vanity I grab my robe, slipping the silky material back on and tying it securely. It's strange to see a different version of me after being frozen for so many years, even if it is only a dream. I glanced back at the mirror, disgusted by my red eyes, but thoroughly pleased with the rest of me, though I would never admit it.

I brushed past my husband, blatantly ignoring his question as I strode over to the other door that used to lead to my own study. I didn't actually need it, but it was nice after a long day of handling the kids to just sit back and sketch or read in the modern office. I wondered what the room had been turned into; know that I'm in dreamland. I felt Carlisle's presence behind me as I reached for the knob, his hand falling to my shoulder as I opened the door.

**OoOoOoO**

Alice POV

Very rarely do I really look into my visions, since very few of them hold my interest, but a certain one that appeared in front of my closed eye lids a few minutes ago grabbed my attention and held it. I scanned the future a little further, hoping to see something that would explain what I had seen, but there was nothing. A sigh of frustration left my lips as I climbed off the bed, my oversized hoodie falling to my knees annoyingly. I hiked it up over my lithe form, my eyes darting to the small mirror in the corner as I tossed the offensive garment into the closet, revealing an old t-shirt underneath.

Two onyx eyes stared back at me, their sockets sunken with deep purple shadows underneath. Gaunt cheekbones and a concave stomach tell the story of a depressed and miserable childhood, which, to no one's surprise, spilled into my adult life. The happiest day of my life had been the day I married Jasper, and even then it had been hard to smile, what with the huge amounts of people and the extremely itchy dress Esme _insisted _(forced) I wear. Happiness wasn't something that had come to me easily in life, and although I'm much more content then I was fifty years ago life still isn't that great. Sometimes I find myself wondering why I got dealt the cards that I did. True I did find my perfect soul mate and I do love him with all my heart, but finding Jasper and being changed into a vampire didn't solve all my problems. I still remember what they did to me in the insane asylum, the electric shocks, the leather straps, the beatings, the humiliation; they haven't faded with time, if anything they have become more potent.

I don't even know why I stay here; really, the people here are some of the most annoying, hyperactive people I have ever met. Rude, too. If it weren't for Jasper I would already be gone, enjoying the nomad lifestyle once again. But Jasper likes this coven quite a lot, and it doesn't look like we're leaving anytime soon, if my visions are correct. I couldn't take him away anyway; it would hurt him too much. Jasper yearns for social interaction, something I will never understand. He revels in the idea of talking and laughing with other people, or in our case vampires. I wish I could change him, make him into a more solitary creature like myself, but I can't, it's just the way Jasper is.

I yank on a pair of sweats and pull back my long hair into a more comfortable style, the stray strands twisting around my neck. As I turned to leave a vision appeared, stopping me immediately, my eyes glazing over as I watched.

It was another one of Carlisle and Esme, much to my excitement. They were in the living room, Carlisle sitting on the couch, Esme towering over him with a soured expression, her arms crossed angrily.

_"This isn't all a dream, is it Carlisle? This is reality! This is real!" _she shouted, gesturing towards herself and then around the room with frantic hands.

Carlisle's posture was calm as he took his wife's assault as he's done countless times before, though I could see his façade cracking as his jaw clenched and his knuckles turned an even brighter white as he balled them into fists. _"This is real. You aren't dreaming," _he assured his wife, grabbing her arm and stroking it smoothly.

She growled and pulled it away, snapping her teeth dangerously. _"Why didn't you tell me? I thought all of this was just a dream, I didn't think this was my actual house, or my actual children, or my actual body, or my actual husband!"_

Esme's body shook with rage, though her face showed more confusion then anger, what with her eyebrows knit together and her eyes brimming with tears. Carlisle looked helpless as he tried to control his spouse with gentle words, _"Please, Esme, I am your actual husband, and this is our actual house, and you look no different than the day you woke up a hundred years ago! Please, baby, just listen to me."_

His begging was fruitless, his words costly as Esme screeched at him, her hands on his shoulders shaking him crazily, _"This is not what I looked like after waking up a hundred years ago, are you insane? And this house is awful, and for God's sake you are _not _the man I married!"_

Hurt registered on Carlisle's face as Esme's words cut through him, leaving him almost weak looking. Esme noticed it, and a look of pity passed over her, though it quickly left, being replaced by the same confused and anger ridden face I had come to associate her with in this vision. _"I'm sorry Carlisle, but this isn't you! I've never heard of Cullen Inc. and I've never known you to be a lawyer! You're a doctor, you have been for centuries! That's how we met, you fixed my leg when I was sixteen and fell out of a tree. And then you changed me when I jumped off a cliff and they put me in the morgue, even though my heart was still beating. Come on Carlisle, don't you remember?"_

Carlisle's eyes widened as he stared at his wife. _"I met you in New York, when you were twenty-six. You had just had your fourth child and you were shopping at Macy's for winter clothing. You were so beautiful that you caught my eye, and I caught yours. We started an affair, though after a few months Charles found out about it and stabbed you in the middle of the night. I changed you then, and after you awoke we wed," _he said tensely. His hands were glued to the armrests, his eyes stuck on his wife.

Esme just gave him a puzzled look, her mouth grimacing slightly, _"You must be joking, Carlisle. I never lived in New York as a human, and I only had one child, not four! And God forbid I ever have an affair! You must be hallucinating!"_

Carlisle gulped and shook his head, _"No, I'm sure of what I said. You had three children with Charles and one with that man, what was his name? I don't remember, but you kind of got knocked up by this old guy and no one wanted to marry you, and then this rich man by the name of Charles Evenson rolls into town and takes you to New York where he agrees to marry you, only on your beauty of course."_

Esme's mouth clenched, _"Carlisle! I would never have…intercourse…with a man that isn't my husband! I can't believe you would even…How Dare You?" _she reared back and before Carlisle knew what had happened Esme's hand slapped him across the cheek, a loud smack sounding through the house. Carlisle rubbed the flesh tenderly, his eyes darkening as he stood up. His frame, which was over 6 ft., loomed over Esme's 5 ft. 7 ridiculously.

_"How Dare I? How Dare You? I'm your husband, Esme, and a wife doesn't treat her husband in such a disrespectful manner!" _Carlisle roared.

Esme shrunk down to the floor, her arms hugging her knees, her head bowed pitifully. _"You're right, I'm so sorry. Please don't hit me, please Carlisle, please don't hit me. You can have me right now if you would like, just please don't hurt me or rape me."_

Carlisle's face turned incredulous as he glanced from his sunken wife to his clenched fists and back again. His eyes glistened with tears as he leaned down and grabbed Esme's chin gently, stroking her cheek. _"I would never hit you Esme. I just lost my cool for a second; it was very immature of me. I'm sorry I scared you, I j-just…" _his voice faded as Esme nodded with understanding in her eyes.

_"It's ok, I forgive you. I don't know what's going on right now, but I do know one thing. I love you Carlisle Cullen," _Esme leaned in and kissed him tenderly, and Carlisle responded, wrapping his arms around her waist.

_"I love you too," _Carlisle murmured before he dropped like a sack of potatoes, his body snapping the hardwood loudly.

Esme's scream signaled the end of the vision, her voice still ringing in my ears, even after the vision was complete.

I felt my body hit the floor as I rubbed my temples, trying to understand the vision as best as I could. Esme was talking about a dream in the beginning, and in the vision I had earlier where Carlisle and her were in their bedroom talking, yet vampires can't sleep, and thus can't dream. She could have been referring to some type of goal, though the context was a little off.

_"This isn't all a dream, is it Carlisle? This is reality! This is real!" _she had screamed, but what does that mean? Has Esme gone completely crazy, or is she just having, as Carlisle put's it 'one of her turns'?

The whole dream thing was really puzzling me, but I decide to move on. Clues might have been prevalent throughout the vision, clues that I didn't catch the first time. I closed my eyes again, allowing the vision to roll over me once more.

As I watched the screaming match unfold again I noticed Esme's clothes. They were not her normal gaudy and expensive garments, but a simple black skirt and white blouse, both of which had been gifts from Rosalie a few years back, and neither of which Esme had ever worn before.

So she's wearing different clothes, is that really a clue or am I just looking too far into this? Does this whole thing really matter anyway? Carlisle and Esme fight all the time and they always do just fine without me butting in. Plus, I don't really like either of them, so why am I doing this? Is it because in a matter of minutes Carlisle is going to fall unconscious and Esme isn't going to remember her past? No.

I glanced at the clock, its bright red digital numbers telling me its 11:57 PM. I hadn't even noticed the sun go down.

Oh well, Carlisle and Esme will have to wait till morning, it's too late now anyway. I climbed back into bed, snuggling up to a pillow and shutting my eyes dreamily, allowing myself to succumb to the world of visions.

**OoOoOoO**

**AN: What's in Esme's study? I literally have no idea so suggestions would be great! **

**And don't forget to review for the next chapter!**


	10. Lust and Loathing

**Been a long time, I know but here it is! Chapter 10! It's super short and not really great but I've been really busy so yea, sorry. Hope you like it and please review if you want me to continue!**

**OoOoOoO**

Esme POV

"What is this?" I asked, leaning into the dimly lit room. I noticed the large windows that used to face the forest were gone, leaving the room dark save for a few lights situated in each corner, their bulbs burning brightly as they tried desperately to light the dark room, though they did very little except add to the creepiness of the cramped and stuffy room.

"A playroom," my husband answered smugly, his arms crossed. I couldn't see very well, even with my enhanced eyesight, the walls proving too dark. The room must be black, or a dark color, an odd color scheme for a playroom.

"Nessie is a little old for a playroom," I reminded him, thinking of my granddaughter. She had grown up so fast, literally, reaching her immortal age of seventeen a little over a month ago. She and Jacob were rarely at the house, preferring the seclusion of La Push over the bustling life in the Cullen house. I knew the time would come when she no longer needed us, but the sting hurts nether less.

"Hmm, It's not for Nessie, baby," Carlisle said, walking further into the room, his hands searching the wall for a light switch. His voice was smug and very unlike him.

"Then who?" I asked, genuinely curious, any fear melting away as I reminded myself that none of this was real. I'm in a dream, an extremely realistic, amazing dream.

He chuckled darkly, flicking the switch on, thus illuminating the room. A gasp left my lips as my eyes took in the sight before me. "Us."

"You have got to be joking," I murmured, embarrassment leaking into my voice. "This is ridiculous."

Carlisle laughed again as he leaned against a black wall, "Hardly. You know what it is, Essie…or should I call you Mistress?" he asked slyly.

"Mistress?" I coughed out, aghast at his words. I know _nothing _about 'submissive and dominant' bedroom games, and quite honestly I had never given them much thought. Carlisle and I had always considered them immoral and gross, though my curiosity has peaked as I took in the chains and whips decorating the walls.

I noticed a long table in the back of the room, complete with straps and spikes that made it look almost medieval. Numerous pairs of handcuffs and other restraints sat on tall shelves, their shiny metallic coating easily frightening me. This room, unlike the room I had just left, contained no mosaic, or hardwood floors, or chandelier, just low hanging bare bulbs, black tiled floors and a dark red ceiling where ropes and chains protruded from carefully cut holes. A few candles sat on a smaller table, a dark chair with straps on the legs and armrests bolted down beside it. Carlisle smiled and sat down, crossing his legs almost mockingly.

"Usually you like me to be the dominant, but sometimes you like me to be the slave, which is why we built this room. So you can _satisfy _your urges," he clarified, picking up a nearby whip and snapping it loudly. I cringed slightly. I noticed a few bright red colored vibrators of various shapes and sizes on one of the shelves, causing my embarrassment to fluster and blossom even further. I'm sure if I was human I would be the color of a beet by now. Carlisle ran a hand over a particularly odd glass object shaped like a massive cock, laughing darkly as I shook my head in disgust.

"Can we leave? I think I've had enough of this dream. To know that my sub conscious makes up such repulsive things is enough of a surprise for one night," I said, maneuvering between two hanging chains. I noticed a set of industrial looking stirrups in the corner, shuddering at the thought of what they were used for.

_Oh God, what have I gotten myself into?_

"It's not a dream, Esme," he promised me, getting out of the chair easily. He walked over toward me, his hands tucked behind his back, his eyes full of amusement. "Tell me if this feels like a dream."

He grabbed my shoulder and pulled me toward him roughly, his lips crashing against mine with sudden ferocity. I yelped and tried to pull back, but his hand was on my head, urging me to stay, and for some reason I complied. His lips were smooth as we kissed his moans erotic and sensual in my ear. His tongue darted out to lick my bottom lip, asking for my permission which I granted easily, my mouth opening feely.

Carlisle and I rarely 'made out' as the kids called it, our kisses rarely involving the open mouthed technique that most people use today. Carlisle usually preferred chaste kisses that were heated in their own way, but _this, _this was heated in _anyway_. Dream Carlisle thrust his tongue into my mouth, a groan erupting from his chest. Electricity flowed between us as Carlisle took the lead, pushing me into the wall, his hands moving to my hair.

Lust coursed through my long-dead veins, igniting a fire I didn't think was still there, a fire I thought burned out a long time ago. This passion reminded me of my wedding night, where Carlisle pleasured me for hours on end with very few interruptions. Carlisle moved down to my neck, his tongue lavishing the scar he had left years ago after my dance with suicide. I moaned, reaching out for my husband, desperate for some kind of contact, and contact he gave. His hand cupped my breast, squeezing it tightly through my bra. His hand flicked at my robe, his nimble fingers prying off the silky material.

It pooled at my feet, Carlisle's eye widening as he took in my form, his pants straining slightly.

"This is the way it's supposed to be," I murmured as Carlisle unclasped my bra, throwing it across the room frantically.

_ No Esme! There's something wrong, you need to stop!_

But it felt so good, almost too good. The erotic furniture around us only seemed to egg on my libido and it certainly seemed to be making my husband extra excited, his pants straining tightly.

_ Stop! This will only end badly!_

My thoughts didn't seem to really register as Carlisle licked down my neck seductively. I groaned loudly and Carlisle chuckled darkly.

_Don't do this, Esme._

"This is what I always wanted, right?" I whispered as Carlisle began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Whatever you say, babe," he shrugged, pulling off my panties and shoving me to the floor. "Whatever you say."

**OoOoOoO**

Jasper POV

"Hey, Ali-cat! Wake up pretty-pie the day is-a-wasting!" I sand, throwing open the curtains, allowing a bright ray of morning sunshine to cast over my wife's sullen form. "I know you wish you could sleep, but you can't, I know I'm sorry too. Maybe if you slept for a few years you wouldn't be so cranky all the time. Never mind! That's aside from the subject, which is you getting your lazy-ass out of bed! Let's go! You haven't done anything all week, and there's a lot of lust coming from Carlisle and Esme's playroom down the hall, which is something you really don't want to see. Trust me," I promised, picking my wife up by the arms. Her head drooped back, her eyes still formally shut.

"Ali-cat! Wake up, come on, stop your day-dreaming!" I said, shaking her frail form roughly. Her limp arms flew wildly, her body slumping in my arms. "Ali-cat?"

I pushed a few strands of hair from my wife's face, setting her down on the bed carefully. "You're not playing some joke on me, are you? No? Ok, that's good. Now I know it's serious, and I'm not very good with serious, so I really don't know what to do. Maybe Emmett would help, but I think he's busy with Rosalie. She's been a little aggravated, her emotions running all over the place. Poor Rosie, she does so much for this family but she doesn't get the respect she deserves. Huh. What do you think Ali-cat?"

I glanced over at my wife, her breathing form completely silent as usual. I climbed over to her and pulled open her eyelids, expecting her to jump up at my sudden intrusion, but she didn't, just allowed me to look at her red orbs which had fallen back inside her head. That really had me worried. Usually when Alice gets this way it's just a vision or a series of visions that she gets caught up in.

"Ok, well just lay down for a while, Ali-cat. Maybe Bells can help, I'll be right back," I said, lying my wife down carefully and pulling the sheets around her thin body. Her lips turned up in a slight smile, as if to show her appreciation for the small gesture in her subconscious state.

"You better not be playing some joke on me, Alice," I warned as I turned to leave. I thought for sure she would sit up and laugh, her eyes twinkling for the first time in decades, but she didn't, her body stayed still, her breathing shallow and steady.

"Ok. I'll be right back, promise."

I gave her one last sympathetic look before leaving, turning down the hall to search for anyone that could help, Bella being number one on my list, and Carlisle and Esme being last, but sadly the first to hear my commotion.

Esme trudged out of her closet, her hair a mess, a silk robe pulled across her body tautly. Her eyes looked alert and shiny as she stared at me blankly.

"Jasper? What are you doing in my dream, dear?" Esme asked innocently, her head slightly tilted.

I cast a quizzical gaze at the vampire, wondering what joke she was playing on me now. "Yea, yea, ok Esme. Whatever. This isn't some joke, this is serious, something's wrong with Alice. Something serious. I know you probably don't give a shit, because you don't care about anything or anyone but yourself but some of us do. I came looking for Bella, not you guys so if you would kindly leave me alone," I muttered, pushing past Esme with rough hands.

She gasped, curling against the wall weakly. "I'm so sorry; I didn't know you were so upset. What's wrong with Alice, is there anything I can do to help?" she asked kindly, her eyes wide and doe-like.

"What?! No, I don't want your help! Who knows what you'll do to her, probably poison her or some shit like that," I said sharply, placing a finger on her exposed collarbone. She sighed deeply, her chest heaving as a hollow sob wracked her body, shuddering slightly as her eyes glazed over with venom.

"Jasper! I would never do that! How could you even say something like that? It breaks my heart to think you would even say something like that…I just can't even…" She shook her head as another sob escaped her throat. Her hand reached out, grabbing my wrist tightly. I glanced at her but didn't pull away.

"God Esme, I can't do this right now! Stop pulling this bull shit with me and go back to your sorry excuse of a husband. I actually have important things to do," I reminded her, yanking away from her. She whimpered pouting cutely as venom coated her dark eyelashes.

"I'm not pulling anything with you, Jasper. I just want to help. I'm sorry if I upset you," she murmured softly, her heading bowing in defeat. "Carlisle was acting oddly as well; I suppose it's no surprise you are as well. I'm so glad this isn't reality."

"You are one crazy-ass woman," I snapped, pushing her slightly as I went to the staircase. To no surprise she followed, her bare feet soft against the plush carpet.

"Wait! I'm sorry if I said something wrong, Jasper, I just want to help! Is there anything I can do to help Alice? Just say the word and I'll do it." Esme pleaded, running over to the staircase. She leaned over the banister, giving me the perfect view of her delicious cleavage.

_Stop Jasper! Alice needs you! Stop being such a fucking perv!_

Just then Carlisle decided to make his appearance, walking out of Esme's closet with a smug grin plastered on his face. He came up behind his wife, encircling her waist suggestively. He leaned down, giving her a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on her cheek, smiling as he did so. His hands traveled south, one cupping her right breast while the other went further, pulling up her robe to give him belter access.

I had become accustomed to seeing such blatant shows of affection between Carlisle and Esme, some of those shows become X-rated very fast. What Carlisle was doing to Esme was _nothing new _but what Esme did in return was new, very new.

She scrambled out of his embrace, pushing him away quickly. Her hands pulled her robe back down, her face masked in obvious disgust. Carlisle shot her a puzzled look.

"Carlisle! Not in front of Jasper! I already broke one of my rules today by doing…uh…well, you know what, with the kids in the house! I know this is a dream but we should still be considerate of others," Esme said sharply, through her tone held an almost motherly tone in it as well. As if she gives a flying shit about me or anyone else.

"God Esme, can you cut this shit out?! I'm getting really sick of your game, it's not funny anymore. Cut it out, or I'll make you," Carlisle warned tersely, his arms crossing tightly.

I gazed at Esme, aghast at her outburst and Carlisle's rather rude retaliation. Usually Carlisle has at least a little patience with his child-like wife, even if it is only out of his love for her. If he loses his patience, which happens sometimes, Esme has no trouble whipping him back into place, even if that means hurting him in the process. Carlisle and Esme are known to rough with each other, which is the only reason I didn't intervene and try to stop their fight.

"Game? What are you talking about, Carlisle?! This isn't a game, it's a dream, and I know it's a dream, I'm not stupid! And please stop yelling, there are other people in this house. I don't need to hear crass and ugly language from my son and my husband. I thought you would know better," Esme spat, crossing her arms to mimic her husband.

Carlisle growled lowly, grabbing her arm tightly. Esme visibly flinched but didn't make a move to escape her husband's grip. Carlisle's eyes darkened considerably and his teeth clenched, his lips spreading to show Esme his anger.

"Know better? What the hell is wrong with you? No, stop turning your damn head, look at me," Carlisle snarled, gripping Esme's chin, forcing her to stare at him directly. Her breathing quickened as he seethed in front of her, his irises darker then coal. "I'm your husband and I can do what I want. Got that?"

"Stop it Carlisle!" Esme whimpered, struggling under his vice-like grip.

"Stop it? Is that all you got? Aren't you going to seduce me or some shit like that?" Carlisle whispered baring his teeth reminding me of some sort of feral animal released after years of captivity.

Esme didn't back down, standing her ground fiercely. "_Please _stop it. And why on earth would I try to seduce you? What type of woman do you think I am?"

"A bitch! That's what everyone in this fucking house thinks, because you are and you always have been! I want to know where my ass of a wife went and I want to know who the fuck you are! I had fun with this Esme, but I want my wife back now," Carlisle argued, shaking Esme considerably.

I saw a glimpse of fear shoot across Esme's face as Carlisle got closer until their faces were almost touching, his voice screaming in her ear harshly.

I decided to try and help Esme (weird I know). She was acting differently and quite honestly I like this new Esme a lot more than the last one and want her to stick around a while longer. By the sounds of it if Carlisle has his way his 'bitch of a wife' will be back in no time if I don't do something quickly.

"Whoa Carlisle, calm down," I pleaded, sending a few waves of calmness at the older vampire. He growled, shaking them off easily. He eyed me sharply, his hands still wrapped around his wife's arms.

"This doesn't have to do with you, Jasper! This is between Esme and I so get the fuck out!" he bellowed, scaring Esme considerably.

"I'm not leaving until you let go of Esme," I said sternly, deciding to stand my ground for once.

"Fine, I don't care if you stay and watch. Maybe you'' learn something," he sneered, his eyebrows narrowing as he centered his attention on Esme.

"Please, Carlisle, please I-I'm s-so s-s-sorry, please just let m-me g-go, you can d-do whatever y-you want with m-me, I- don't c-care," she promised, her eyes glassy with venom.

"No! That's not what I want, I don't want submission! I want my _old wife. _Where is she?!" he screamed, thrashing her wildly.

"I-I-I d-don't know," Esme sputtered, her words choked with unshed tears.

"That's a really shitty answer."

"I-I'm s-sorry. I d-d-don't k-know what you t-talking a-a-about," she stuttered, trying to break Carlisle's grip to wipe at her eyes. Carlisle growled and held strong.

"Yes you do, but you always try to act so damn naïve and innocent even though you're anything but. Maybe this will teach you a lesson."  
Carlisle reared back, his palm outstretched and aimed at his wife's cheek. Carlisle had hit Esme before, even that wasn't new. When he did hit her Esme would either flip and bust a cap on his ass or whimper quietly about how she deserves it and how she's 'oh so sorry'. I feel I'm about to see the latter.

The thought to stop him crossed my mind, but I decided against acting out for the better good since Esme's never really done anything for me. Why should I help her when she hardly even bothers to remember my name? Sure, she's become a bit nicer but I bet her nasty side can still spring free any second. Maybe she will flip out on him, or maybe she'll use her gift to stop him.

It all seemed to happen so fast. Carlisle's hand collided with Esme like two boulders crashing into each other, the sound echoing through the quiet house. Esme yelped, falling to the ground like a wounded child. Carlisle's face became pained and creased with worry as he stared at his wife, but he didn't bother to help her up or even apologize. He stood there for a moment, his tongue jutting out to lick his upper lip nervously before turning to leave, his hands stuck in his pockets, his eyes a bright red.

Esme glanced up at me from her spot on the floor, her eyes cradling her bruised face carefully. I leaned down and helped her up, admiring her large eyes and heart shaped face as I did so. She reminded me of some sort of princess, maybe Snow White or Sleeping Beauty with her hair tumbling over her shoulders majestically. She looked, for the first time ever, friendly and sweet.

I suddenly felt guilty for not stopping her husband from hitting her. I should have done something, yet I let my selfish side get the best of me, like it always does. What is wrong with me?

Esme thanked me, giving me a weak smile, her hand going to the banister to steady her wobbling form. "I'm sorry you had to see that, Jasper. I never thought he would do that to me, even in a dream. I suppose I deserved it."

"He was out of line, I'm sorry I didn't do anything," I said softly, thrusting my hands in my pockets. After a moment I realized I was mimicking Carlisle and quickly pulled them out, leaving my fingers to fidget with the loops on my jeans awkwardly.

"Yes well, I thank you for what you did do. I think I'm going to lie down for a bit. If you need me I'll be in my bathroom," Esme said, her voice surprisingly quiet. "If you need help with Alice don't hesitate to ask. You don't happen to know where Carlisle went, do you?"

"I think he was going to my study to wind down for a bit. You'll be safe in your room. I'll tell him not to bother you," I promised weakly. It was the least I could do for her after watching her husband slap her across the face.

Esme smiled again, though it never seemed to reach her eyes, landing flatly on her ruby colored lips. "Thank-you, Jasper."

**OoOoOoO**

**So I know everyone's like "Carlisle hit Esme?! He would never!" but anything goes in the world of Opposites! I didn't want him too either, but somehow it just seemed to fit so I decided to write it out in this really short little chp. I hope you liked it and please review for another!**


	11. No Time for Apologies

**Been a while, I know, but this is a pretty good chapter so I hope you enjoy!**

**OoOoOoOoO**

Edward POV

"What do you mean you 'don't accept credit cars'? What low-ass, fucked up joint doesn't accept credit cards? What do we live in, the ice-age?"

I slammed a handful of bills down onto the service counter will a slam, causing the petite cashier to jump, her eyes terrified. She pulled at her blonde ponytail nervously, her teeth nipping at her bottom lip nervously.

"Sorry for the inconvenience, sir. The boss won't put out enough cash to get the machines. Forks in a pretty small town, you know? Not a lot of money around here."

Her excuse caused me to sneer a bit, earning me an odd glance from the woman behind me. She had an eyebrow raised, her hands posted on her hips like some sort of PTA mom who's pissed about her son not making the soccer team cuts. In other words she looked like an old bitch.

"What are you looking at?" I hissed, snapping my teeth a bit in the hopes of scaring the mindless human. She flinched but didn't back down, surprisingly enough.

"I'm looking at a young man being extremely disrespectful to an employee who did absolutely nothing wrong." She clucked her tongue, reminding me of Rosalie when I don't bother to clean my room. Her fingers drummed against her dress, her eyes slightly squinted. "Where are your parents?"

"At home," I said almost instinctively. I've learned over the years to tell people Esme and Carlisle are my adoptive parents, if for no other reason than to keep sympathy and questions at bay. Truth be told I think of Rosalie and Emmett more as maternal and paternal figure heads in the family then I do Carlisle and Esme, who act like children themselves.

"And who are they? I'm sure they'd like to know how rude their son has been acting in public." Her voice was cold, but her appearance was hardly intimidating. Mid-thirties housewife with hair and makeup that would have been highly regarded in 80's culture and a pink polo dress with an extra button un-done to show off her non-existent chest (trust me I already looked). I imagined Esme getting a good look at this woman. I bet she wouldn't even let her within a hundred feet of the house, maybe not even two-hundred. I couldn't let this woman know who I was. Esme's been having such a rough time lately I don't want her to have another melt down because she saw this lady's clothes from afar. Lying time!

"When I said 'at home' I meant up there," I said meekly, pointing at the roof of the minimart. The lady's gaze traveled up, her eyes immediately filling with sorrow and, God forbid, pity.

The cashier sniffled a bit as the woman nodded, her hands now clasped at her front like a doting pastor's wife. She pushed her cart aside and pulled me into an awkward embrace that seemed to last a few seconds too long. Her thoughts were still fairly shallow, but surprisingly genuine.

_Poor boy just doesn't have anyone to teach him. I wish I could help him._

"You can help me by leaving me alone, alright?" I mumbled, grabbing the package of batteries I had come to the store for. She gave me a slight nod, her face still revealing a hint of sadness.

The cashier offered me a wad of bills and a few pennies as my change, both of which I promptly ignored.

"Keep it and get a damn credit card machine."

She shrugged and stuffed the bills in the register. "Thank you sir, come again."

I mumbled something under my breath and snatched the batteries out of the plastic bag, tossing the cheap thing in the trash can. I stuffed the batteries in my pocket and made my way to the door, stopping momentarily to look outside at an achingly familiar face.

"Bella?!" I asked incredulously as she barreled through the door, her eyes wide and crazed. The cashier eyed us suspiciously. I shot her a look of distaste.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me outside, running towards my car quickly, her brown hair tossing wildly. What was going on?

"Bella, what's wrong with you?" I snapped as she yanked the keys out of my hand and slipped into the driver's seat. Something inside of me allowed it, a strange but not forbidden feeling. I crouched into the passenger's seat, fiddling with the seatbelt nervously as Bella started the engine. She glanced over her shoulder once and jerked the car out of the parking place; almost hitting a beat-up Chevy is the process.

"Watch it," I muttered. She glared at me and hit the brakes, sending my body lurching toward the front of the car, my head connecting with the dash board. The plastic wheezed and cracked.

"God, you don't have to be such a fucking bitch," I murmured, rubbing my head lightly, though the pain had already ceased. "What's your problem?"

"What's my problem? What's everyone's problem?! I'm the only normal person on this planet it seems, and I just don't know what to do, and-and-and…" She stopped suddenly, her voice drowning out under the rumbling of the engine. She placed her hands on her lap, her foot planted firmly on the brake. A car behind us honked loudly. I flipped them off.

"What's going on, Bella?" I asked, trying to sound calm, even though my own nerves were starting to get tight. I clenched my hands into fists when she refused to answer, her eyes locked on the window in front of her. "Bella, please tell me what's the matter with you," I begged, once again receiving no reply.

I sighed, slipping out of the car, and opening the driver's door. I pulled Bella out, shaking her a bit in the hopes of getting her to liven up, though it did little. Her eyes were dark, and she was trembling slightly, her frail hands almost translucent in the foggy air. She looked ill, or maybe just frightened. Either way, she didn't look good. "Go get in the passenger side, Bells. I'll drive," I assured her, helping her get into the car. She eased herself in, nodding slightly when she was seated. I rushed to the other side, slamming the door shut and cranking the car into drive. Bella shuddered as the engine went into overdrive, pushing the car to 60 mph in a matter of seconds. The sound became almost hypnotizing, and a nice break from the silence that had enveloped the car.

We spent a few minutes like that, neither of us talking. Bella stared out the window, her knees pulled up to her chin, her hands resting on her calves. Sometimes she would dare a glance at me, though only for a second. She seemed scared, though scared of what I don't know. What does a vampire have to be scared of? We are invincible. No one can hurt us. What has her so riled up, or maybe the better word is who? My guess is either Esme or Carlisle. Esme's been so weak these past few weeks, and Carlisle has been so grumpy I wouldn't be surprised if one or both of them flew off the handle at my rather awkward wife. The poor girl needs to grow a stronger back bone, or she'll be crushed in this family.

"What'd they say?" I asked, gripping the wheel tightly. Bella sent me a puzzled look, her mouth slightly agape. I drummed my fingers on the leather, patiently awaiting her reply.

"Who?" She asked dumbly.

"You know who, Esme and Carlisle. What'd they say? Must be pretty bad to have you this torn up," I mused, my eyes still on the road.

Bella shook her head slowly and pulled her legs closer. "No. You're wrong. It wasn't Esme at all, if anything Esme is acting like her old self, the Esme I _remember_. You know the nice one." She sent me a mental picture of a different Esme, a motherly smile adorning her lips. I had seen this picture once before, when Bella was trying to convince me of her 'old life'. It was a radical and insane thought that the reality I have always known doesn't exist, or really never has existed, but nether less I believed her. She had her facts straight, and for the most part I can trust Bella.

"So you're mad that she's acting less bitchy?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. Once again she shook her head, sighing as she did so.

"Of course not. I was thrilled when Jasper ran down to the cottage and told me the news. But then he told me what Carlisle did to her, something I never thought Carlisle would ever do to anyone and especially not Esme."

Bella looked down, her forehead just barely touching the tops of her knees. I shuffled a bit in my seat and pressed on the pedal, suddenly fearful of what's happened back home. Carlisle and Esme can be a serious pain in the ass, but I still love them in some crazy, messed-up sort of way. Carlisle changed me into a vampire, and saved my life which is something I'll never be able to repay him for. No matter what happens, I still care about him, to a certain degree.

"So what happened?" I urged.

She bit her bottom lip, her sharp teeth threatening to break the skin. I placed a hand on her knee, calming her down instantly. Worry coated her face like fresh snow.

"Just tell me what happened, Bells. I won't be mad, and I promise I won't flip out. Please, tell me."

She nodded, and audibly gulped, her eyelids flickering cutely.

"Carlisle he…he _hit _Esme."

I think Bella wanted me to slam on the brakes, and freak out, and throw something in a fit of testosterone induced rage all caused by Carlisle's abusive ways, but I didn't. I kept my eyes on the road, my hands planted firmly on the wheel. I don't think I even blinked.

Why? Because it's nothing new. It's something neither Carlisle nor Esme enjoy talking about, but it's not something that is completely obscured from my or any other coven member's view. We, in human words, 'turn a blind eye toward it'. Carlisle is Carlisle, and abuse is abuse. Esme is his wife, his property, who am I to stop him from doing what he wants with her? It wasn't a forced marriage. Esme knew full and well when she married Carlisle that he wasn't going to be the perfect and doting husband seen in magazines. Carlisle's rough around the edges to say the least, and he isn't afraid to put Esme in her place when she misbehaves. A slap there, a shake here, nothing to awful but enough to get her attention and shut her up.

Most the time those slaps get through to the spoiled brat that is Esme Cullen, though sometimes Carlisle gets a slap back, always much harder than the one he delivered on his wife. Along with the slap he also gets an earful, and a week without sex, which is more like an eternity for Carlisle.

Overall the slightly abusive side of Carlisle and Esme's marriage isn't so bad. After everything is said and done both of them still love each other immensely and understand one another to an almost insane extent. Carlisle usually promises he'll 'never do it again,' and later on he'll say 'I would never in a million years hit you,' though both of them are of course, lies. Lies that Esme already knows. She's been married to him long enough to know he doesn't mean half the things he says. She takes the slaps and kicks like a pro, which I guess she is.

Two abusive relationships in one hundred years. The odds have never been in Esme's favor, I guess.

"Well don't just sit there!" Bella said harshly, straightening up in her seat. She grabbed my arm, shaking it slightly. I pushed her off, careful to be gentle.

"What do you want me to say, Bella? 'That's awful'? He does it all the time, it's no big deal," I reminded her.

I took a sharp turn and Bella grabbed the door handle to keep herself from falling into my lap. She grimaced slightly as she watched me straighten the car back out.

"'No big deal'? What the hell, Edward?! Did you hear me correctly? Carlisle. Hit. Esme. He hit her! After all that's happened to her already, he slapped her across the face! And for something so stupid! God, just when she was getting better…" she groaned, leaning her head against the window, her blank eyes watching the forest go by.

"Why did he do it?" I asked, trying to sound somewhat intrigued. I really didn't give a crap why Carlisle slapped Esme; it didn't change things either way. Esme would be fine in a couple hours anyway. She bounces back quickly.

"I didn't see it, Esme was talking to Jasper when it happened, but from his report it sounded like Carlisle was trying to 'make a move' and Esme told him to stop. From there things got heated, and then Carlisle just blew up. Jasper said he knocked her down with the force of the blow. Aren't you just a little worried?" She asked, searching me for some sort of sympathy. I gave her a halfhearted shrug.

"Sure, I mean I know how fragile Esme has been recently, and I know Carlisle can be a real ass, but look at it this way: Esme chose her own fate. She messed around behind her husband's back and he killed her. Sure, she got the 'oh so handsome' Carlisle Cullen as her prize, but she still isn't a morally good person. None of us really are. We're vampires, Bella, and we act as such. We aren't a fuzzy, lovey dovey family, like I know you wanted, we are the very opposite. We fight, we hate, and we irritate each other, that's just what happens. So Carlisle hit Esme, who the hell cares? It's not your problem, it's not my problem and it's not Jasper's problem so why should we worry about it? Let Carlisle handle Esme the way he wants to. It's not your position to be angry about it."

Bella sat there for a few minutes, utterly stunned by my complete and outright apathy. She looked to still be shaking a bit, but not as bad as before, more like a slight tremble from a nippy breeze then pent up frustration and anger. I offered her my coat, which she promptly refused.

"I don't want it," she said. "I'm not cold, I'm just…confused. And homesick."

I allowed a long silence to follow Bella's heavy words. There was no need for more conversation; we had already said all that needed to be said. I now understand what Bella wants; I now understand how different this Bella really is. The Bella I married wouldn't speak up about Carlisle's abusive nature, and she definitely wouldn't run all the way to the supermarket to tell me about it. My old Bella would care, but she wouldn't care with such complete devotion, as if Esme really means something to her. As if she was part of her family.

**OoOoOoOoO**

Carlisle POV

I don't know how long I sat in Jasper's study for. Minutes, hours? Maybe even days, I don't know. I never bothered to look at the clock, or anything else for that matter aside from the large window on the south wall overlooking the river and forest below. The rushing water was peaceful in some ways, though destructive in others, and in that way I could relate to it. Water can heal and it can kill, just like me. I healed Esme; I changed her into something that made her inhumanly beautiful and incredibly graceful and elegant but in the same day I made her into a monster. I made the love of my life into something disgusting. I encouraged her ridiculous behavior, her love of money and material things. I brushed aside her lusty looks at other men, something I now regret sorely. What if I had been sterner with her in the beginning? Would she have tried to pull the same bull shit she does now or would she be the more picture perfect wife I had always imagined having? You know those fifties house wives with those cute little aprons and polka dotted dresses? It was before the fifties when I met Esme, but you get the message.

I mean I played around with humans like Esme, but I never imagined ending up with someone like her. I wanted someone normal to keep around the house. I didn't want someone incredibly gorgeous with big tits and wide hips, I wanted _average_. I wanted a woman I would never have to hit to keep in place. I wanted obedience and submission.

This sounds so awful now, what with all the feminist shit and all, but I can't lie about what I once wanted. Of course when I met Esme all my previous thoughts on 'the perfect woman' when right out the door, along with my dignity. I wanted Esme Evenson more than any other woman I had ever met, and I knew that one day I would have her for myself. I didn't care that she didn't fit 'the mold' of my perfect wife, I wanted her and so I had her. She became mine on her death bed, and since then has been faithful and obedient.

Well, somewhat obedient. Sometimes Esme does things that I just can't stand.

I hate it when she flirts with a man she doesn't intend to kill.

I hate it when she blatantly disobeys me, and later tells me she 'just wanted to see my reaction'.

I hate it when she tries to play games with me, when I'm obviously not in the mood, like today.

I hate it when she refuses me, when I am in every sense of the word her loving and doting husband. I do everything for her and yet she never repays me for it, like today. I wanted one thing from her and she couldn't even give that to me.

She was trying to act demure in front of Jasper, something I've never seen Esme do, and something I never thought I would see Esme do. My wife is incredibly open about her sex life, and usually shows it rather proudly. She gave everyone in the coven, aside from me of course, the ever dreaded 'Cullen sex talk', which usually consisted of Esme telling each coven member about our activities in the bedroom and then showing he or she one of her many 'A-rated porno's'. It's safe to say the conversation and video never went over very well with anyone, thought I bet they learned a lot from it. More than they could teach each other.

I wasn't going to try anything too scandalous, just a little touching a little grinding, nothing Esme wouldn't normally be afraid of doing in public. I mean all I did was grab her boob and she flipped out on me? I mean what was with that? It's not like I was going to go any further, I understand even Esme has boundaries, hell even I have some boundaries sometimes, though over the years I've grown to ignore many of them.

Plus it's not like Esme was trying to hide anything from Jasper anyway. She was wearing a flimsy little robe for God's sake and she looked like hell from riding me for the past hour. If she was so embarrassed why didn't she bother covering up a little more?

In the end I did start to feel a little bad for what I had done, and decided to pay my wife a visit. I abandoned my hiding space and walked over to my and Esme's room, knocking on the door ever so gently, as not to disturb my wife too badly.

"Carlisle?" Esme asked from behind the door. I could hear someone sniffling softly, and deduced that it was indeed my wife who was crying.

_Good job you fucking idiot! Now she's crying. Is this what you wanted?_

"Yes it's me. May I come in? I want to talk…about what happened." I clarified.

I heard some shuffling on the other side and the lock of the door slide open.

"Of course," Esme said softly.

I came in, surprised by what I saw. Esme was on the floor, wrapped up in a sheet obviously from our monstrous bed which was in tatters. The canopy was torn down and the comforter had been shredded, teeth marks marring the expensive fabric. The mattress had slipped off the bed, a large slit decorating its top and left side. A mixture of fluffy material and layered cotton flowed from its depths. All the pillows had been torn and left, allowing feathers to escape and float around the room aimlessly. The large painting that had been hanging above the bed, the one Rosalie had done for her, had been punched through and ripped apart. Its tatters lay abandoned on the floor, forgotten just like the rest of the shit she had torn apart.

"What the…" I muttered, pinching a feather between two fingers. It fluttered slightly then slumped over, as if admitting defeat in this disastrous room.

"I'm sorry Carlisle," she sobbed, standing up slowly. Her legs shook, though for some odd reason I made no move to help her. This woman wasn't my wife. This was someone else.

Esme's violent, and can become very angry very fast but she would never in a million years do something like this. My wife loves her stuff too much to tear it all apart. She's too materialistic to let go like this, no matter how angry.

Yet here this woman stands in front of me, this stranger I made love to not even an hour before, and I don't know her. I don't know who she is, and I don't know what has happened to my wife, or what's happened to me for that matter.

"What have you done?"

She stared at me, her mouth open her eyes glassy and red.

"I-I was angry," she started, tugging at her blouse nervously. At least she had put some clothes on. "I was angry at you."

"You were angry at me?" I asked, raising my eyebrows in mock surprise. Of course she would be angry, I slapped her. But why should I care? I don't know her. She's not my wife.

She breathed in deeply, releasing her breath through her mouth. She shut her eyes tightly and gave me a stout nod. "Yes. I was very angry actually, and I still am."

I walked toward her, my hands clasped behind my back in a very un-Carlisle way. The gesture reminded me more of Emmett than anyone else. "Oh really?"

I expected her to crouch away from me, hide behind something, but she didn't. She stood there firmly and strongly, her bare feet planted on the floor beneath her like some sort of ancient stone statue. She crossed her arms proudly and nodded again.

"Yes, I am. I don't appreciate being hit and abused by my own husband. I married you for a reason, and I would like it if you showed me a little more respect than what you demonstrated before. It makes you no more of a man to slap me and it makes me no more compliant, so in the end you don't get what you wanted. You should be ashamed of yourself, Carlisle Cullen."

"Ashamed, huh?" I whispered quietly. I suddenly felt small compared to Esme who although was much shorter than me seemed frighteningly tall and encompassing.

"Yes, ashamed. I would have thought more of you, Carlisle. Even if this is a dream, which I am sure it is, you should know how to behave, especially in front of the children who shouldn't have to see such a thing. Do you know what you have done to them?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips.

"What did I do Esme?" My tone was bored, which was exactly what I had been aiming for.

Esme's eyes narrowed as her gaze darkened. "You ruined everything. All the trust and love I gave you, you ruined it. And not to mention you frightened the kids. You know Jasper is going to be telling Alice who will tell Edward who will tell Bella and so on and so forth. I'm so glad this is a dream, for if it wasn't I wouldn't really know what to do," Esme admitted sadly.

She sighed and sat back down, wrapping the sheet around her shoulders once again. She curled her feet inwards and pulled her knees together with her hands. "You can leave now. All we need is the kids to hear us arguing again."

I thought about turning and leaving, heading back to Jasper's study to think for a few more hours. It would have been the smart move, the move I should do, but I decided against it. This woman, though she looks exactly like her, isn't my wife but she still has some effect on me, and I don't want her to be angry with me, for some odd reason. No matter what I say to myself I still care about her. I still love her.

"Look, Essie, I'm really sorry about what I did. What do you think I came back here for? If I didn't care about you, if I didn't want you to trust you, then I wouldn't have come back. I know what I did was wrong, and if I could take it back I would but I can't. My anger got the best of me once again, and although it's not something I can easily control it doesn't serve as an excuse for what I did. I wish it didn't happen in front of Jasper as well, but I'm sure he'll get over it. Please, Esme. Please forgive me," I begged, placing my hand in hers as I leaned down to face her. Our eyes locked and for a moment my old Esme was back, and everything was alright again.

Then the moment was gone, and Esme's grimace returned. She stood up, smoothing her skirt down quickly, her mouth twister, her eyes dark.

"I'm sorry but I can't right now. Please leave me alone for a little longer and maybe then I will be ready to forgive you, but at the present moment I just…can't look at you. Every time I see you I just think about what you did and what Charles did…and I just can't. I love you Carlisle. I always have and I always will," she assured me gently before leaving the room. Her scent lingered on for a few minutes, but even that disappeared as well.

For the longest time I just stood there, like a complete and utter fool. I had absolutely no idea what to do and for the first time in my life my wife wasn't by my side. Esme and I always kiss and make up quickly when in a fight, so this new 'wait it out' shit is really getting on my nerves. What am I supposed to do? Sit around until Rosalie gets home and I can get her to talk to Esme about it? Would that be smart?

Or I could force her to talk to me, and make her even more irritable. She'd probably leave me if I did that. Just get up and leave and take all my money with her, but what else do you expect from Esme? To be honest I didn't expect her to stand up for herself in such a respectful and mature manner. Aside from the destruction of our bed she showed little anger, and the anger she did show was more dismissive then anything, and didn't do anything to help my ego.

So why did I even come? Was I really expecting her to accept my apology? Yes. I came expecting my weak and loving wife to either sob and fall into my arms, kissing me passionately as she did so or slap me a couple times and say some crass things before jumping into bed with me. Was I expecting her to have such a strong backbone? No. Am I that offended by it? Not as much as I am proud, though the pride I feel is a bit twisted. I am proud of having a wife who is not considered weak, but I am also proud of having a wife that more fits the image I wanted so long ago in a wife. The image I had forgotten about so long ago. I had become so accustomed to having a slutty, bitchy wife that I thought nothing of it. I accepted her for who she was and never questioned it. Now Esme's talking intelligently, acting maturely, and dressing like a woman years her senior. So am I proud of that? In some distorted way, yes.

I heard Bella and Edward arrive home, their voices carrying up the staircase. I thought about joining them but decided against it. I need a little more alone time. I sat down in the debris, brushing aside a pile of feathers before plopping down.

Esme would come around. She has to. I can't live without her. She's all I got left. I know Esme's strong and I know she doesn't always need me, but I'm starting to think I need her more then she needs me. I always thought Esme was the one who needed me, for I was the one who changed her after all, but now as I look at things with more perspective I can see that I am the one who needs her so badly, not the other way around. I was too stupid to realize that when John attacked her and she fell ill, but now I see. Without Esme, I can't exist.

For the first time in what seems like years, I felt the stirrings of true compassion and love in my heart, (though it could have been the lusty after thoughts from seeing Esme in that tight white blouse) either way I felted changed.

And with that I shut my eyes and succumbed to the sudden darkness which was quickly consuming me like a tunnel. I felt myself slump down, my head hitting the floor and clattering loudly, before falling unconscious, my mind unwilling to hold onto reality.

**OoOoOoOoO**

**Alright, so tell me what you think and if you want another chapter please! And thanks so much for all the amazing reviews and messages I got from you guys on the last chapter, you guys rock!**

**Oh, one last thing, which character should change back next? Carlisle and Alice are already on their way, so who deserves to come back next? **

**1) Jasper**

**2) Rosalie**

**3) Emmett**

**4) Edward**

**Hope you enjoyed!**


	12. Vain

**Finally! I know, very long wait but here it is! Enjoy and don't forget to review!**

**OoOoOoOoO**

Rosalie POV

It was pitch black outside by the time Carlisle finally woke back up. He was still fairly drowsy, but surprisingly positive. I opted for helping him clean up the room but he quickly declined the invitation as he scrambled off the floor and into the hallway, searching for his wife.

"I thank you Rosalie for the thought, but it will not be necessary. Either Esme or I will clean up the mess, you need not to worry. You don't happen to know where Esme is now, do you?"

"Oh, yes, Esme's outside on the porch I think. I'm not sure if she wants to be bothered by you right now though; actually I'm fairly certain she doesn't want to see you at all right now. Maybe you should give her a little breathing room, especially after all that happened," I offered, guiding Carlisle away from the stairs. "She's pretty upset and I think she would much rather just have some alone time. Maybe you could spend some time with Emmett or Jasper. I'm sure they could use your company."

That's a lie. Neither of them actually like, or even tolerate, Carlisle much at all, but I really didn't need the blonde vampire lurking around a sulking Esme. She had already had enough misery for the day. I didn't want to add an abusive husband to the mix.

"I'm terribly sorry, Rosalie, but I really do need to see my wife. I need to talk with her about something. By the way, do you have any idea where we are?" Carlisle asked quietly, glancing around the room with curious eyes. "Has Esme been decorating again? Is this the newest design? I personally liked the crisper, cleaner look, but I adore anything that makes her happy."

I sighed, already thoroughly irritated by Carlisle's ignorance. What is wrong with this cursed family? Surely Carlisle remembers what he did to Esme; how he hurt her, _hit her. _Usually, though not always, Carlisle feels some sort of guilt over his actions and apologizes to his wife, who usually, once again not always, forgives him. Of course there are those time when Esme gathers the nerve and strength to beat her husband to a pulp in the backyard, cursing at him the whole time, swearing she'll fight back the next time.

But she never does.

She lets him do it, again and again, never once telling someone of her problems. Everyone knows, even Alice who rarely leaves her room, but no one has ever said a word to Carlisle about it. It's not that he's especially intimidating (which he is sometimes) but because no one has ever felt the need to. I adore Esme, but what happens between her and her husband is none of my business, or anyone else's.

Then again, doesn't everyone need someone to stand up for them? Didn't I need someone to stand up for me eighty years ago in that dirty motel room in New York? What would I be if Esme never showed up? Dead. I wouldn't exist. I'd be stuck in a grave somewhere, six feet under, surrounded by dirt and worms. Did she not do me the biggest favor in saving my life on that fateful night? I have tried to repay her every form possible, yet I haven't done the one thing she was able to do for me. Stand up.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," Carlisle started, gently pushing me aside. I grabbed his arm and yanked him forward, prohibiting any more movement. He gave me a quizzical stare but made no move to escape.

"Rosalie, what's wrong?" he asked, his brow furrowed, his expression tinted in worry.

I gulped, afraid to spit out what I know I should. Where is my confidence, my strength? Surely it's in there somewhere…

"Rose, please let go of me," Carlisle said somewhat grudgingly, annoyance finally leaking through his calm façade.

After a second I did let go of his arm, but not before rearing back and giving him a good slap across the cheek. The sound echoed nicely throughout the house, a reminder of what I had done. The stinging sensation in my hand died down after a moment, but the hype over my action did not. I was ready now.

Carlisle fell backward, stumbling around the hallway until his back brushed up against the wall. The balance he gained from the sturdy structure was enough for him to stand straight again, though his limbs seemed to still be shaking slightly, either from anger or injury. Carlisle's lips pulled into a taunt line, his eyes narrowing for only a second before easing back into a more tranquil expression. He stood up a bit straighter, smoothing the wrinkles out of his shirt and pants, his frown slowing turning into an amused smile.

"What exactly was that for?" he asked, a grin pulling at the corners of his lips.

I huffed loudly, crossing my arms as if the gesture would scare off his annoying smirk. "_That_ was for hitting your wife and walking away. How about you try being a real man for once in your pitiful life," I hissed, sending him an especially malicious glare.

He returned it, but not with angered or even embarrassed eyes, but with a completely confused expression. He stared at me blankly, his eyes unblinking.

"Hit Esme? I have no idea what you are talking about Rosalie, I would never, in a million years, hit the love of my life. Surely you out of all people would know that," he assured me softly. He walked forward, placing a tender hand on my arm. I winced slightly but didn't ask him to pull away.

"Don't play that game with me, Carlisle. I've seen you do it numerous times before today, and every time I just ignore it, and hope it doesn't happen again and then it does. Just like it did today. And what infuriates me more than anything is how kind you can be to her, and how much she trusts you, even after you repeatedly abuse her over such trivial and stupid things! For God's sake Carlisle she isn't a piece of property that you can throw around, she is a _person_, with emotions and feelings!"

The screams tore from my throat, red and raw, like flames leaking from a damaged hearth. No longer was I the timid and shy Rose, I was the strong willed and confident Rosalie, fully capable of standing against any man, or anyone for that matter. I felt powerful as I stood my ground against Carlisle, who still had a look of confusion over his face.

_What a sorry excuse for a man._

"Grow up and learn that Esme is more than just your wife, she's a woman and she's one of my closest companions. She deserves more than a scum bag like you," I spat out sourly.

Carlisle's eyebrows lowered expectedly at the rather low comment. Never had I been so direct in my opposition against Esme's relationship to Carlisle, even though I hadn't liked the two of them together from the start. They were in love, everyone was sure of that, even me, but they always seemed on the edge of collapse, as if at any moment the shaky bridge connecting their hearts would just suddenly break. I always thought Esme, who, at her heart I believe is a good person, deserves a man more gentle and kind then Carlisle. She needs someone capable of holding and sharing compassion.

I could almost taste Carlisle's discomfort in the air but I did nothing to acknowledge it. Actually I did nothing at all except turn on my heel and walk away, back to the sanctuary of my bedroom where hopefully I would have enough time to think about my actions before Esme came back in, wanting sympathy and pity, both of which I can give almost too easily.

I thought I heard Carlisle murmur something along the lines of 'Oh Rosalie' but I could be wrong, for by the time he said it I was already gone, enclosed in a hole of darkness, my body falling to ground with a deafening thump, my limbs weak, my mind swimming. I was gone, just like the rest of them.

_What would become of me now?_

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

Esme POV

"Esme, my love, is that you?"

I abruptly turned around and was greeted by none other than my husband's face. It pained me how perfect he was, how utterly and exquisitely gorgeous he was, even to my extra sensitive vampire eyes. No one on this planet, or any other, would have anything remotely flawless when compared to my Carlisle. He exemplified a mixture of old and new, human and immortal, husband and man so well, though even he has his missteps, his mistakes. He had hurt me, yes, but he was still my husband, and I still love him with all my heart.

I cleared my throat before answering, my mouth surprisingly dry. "Yes, Carlisle. It's me."

Did I really look so awful that he didn't recognize me? I knew I had been crying for a while now, maybe too long, but it's not like vampires can shed tears, so my eyes shouldn't be red and my cheeks should be dry. Maybe my enhanced beauty is starting to run from me too. I suppose that wouldn't be a bad thing, I've always thought that women who take their beauty more serious than their intelligence are ignorant. Hopefully I don't appear so oblivious in this light.

I heard his footsteps behind me, soft but firm. The same footsteps that used to excite me now only seemed to be a reminder of what had happened. For some reason they reminded me of Charles, his calm exterior that always faded to reveal the true monster within. Isn't that what had happened to Carlisle? He finally threw away the cloak and revealed the true beast within.

He sat down next to me on the porch swing, his hand folding into mine. I pulled away sharply, choosing instead to place my hands palm down on my lap. Carlisle stared at me with sad eyes, his mouth twitching slightly at the abruptness of my action.

_Serves him right. He hit you; he doesn't deserve any love from you._

My inner voice screamed encouragement, telling me to do unforgivable things to my husband, things that, when placed in the right light, didn't seem so awful. He had done something terrible to me, something that might even take decades to overcome. I mean who knows how long it will take before I actually trust him again; really trust him, like I did before.

_Leave him! Divorce him! Come on Esme, you don't need a man by your side, you are an independent woman. Get out of here before he does something worse._

"No."

My somewhat raspy voice came as a surprise to both of us. Carlisle looked at me, his mouth slightly agape, and his blood red eyes searching for answers within my own. But answers he would not find, for they are too guarded for even my husband to find. Edward's scent is far away; my thoughts are my own for the moment. A sigh of relief escaped my lips.

"'No' what, Esme?" Carlisle inquired softly, moving a strand of hair from my face delicately. His touch was feather light, and not at all intrusive, but I couldn't keep myself from shrinking away.

"I'm not going to leave you, not now not ever. Out of all of our years together you've made one mistake, what gives me the right to hold that against you? What gives me the right to be so angry with you and ignore you so wrongfully? You did something…terrible, but I still love you." I reached over and laced my fingers with his. His eyes danced with happiness, his lips parting in a bright white smile. "I don't want what happened to happen again, but I also don't want to hold a grudge against you for the rest of eternity. How about from this moment on we just start over. From here on out everything that's happened in the past is erased. We should be looking toward the future anyway," I reminded myself thoughtfully.

Carlisle nodded wistfully as he wrapped me into a strong embrace. "I think that can be arranged. I'm a little…confused right now to say the least, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy. I think I know what I did, and although it was not my conscious decision, nor do I remember any of this, or even you for that matter, I'm sorry. If I can make it up to you somehow I would."

I blinked once, processing my love's words.

_ Nor do I remember any of this, or even you for that matter._

_ Or even you._

"What do you mean you don't remember me?" I asked shortly. So much for looking into the future.

Carlisle frowned slightly and said, "Well, I remember you but not _this_ you. You look different, Esme. The last thing I truly remember is running through the forest in search of Rosalie and Emmett, and then this blinding pain. I blacked out completely and then woke up here, in this foreign house surrounded by foreign people." 

"It's ok, I understand. I didn't know what was happening and then you were here, and then everything got really confusing. I just want to go back, to before all this. I wish it would all just go away," I admitted sadly, placing my cheek on Carlisle's shoulder. He kissed my forehead delicately and agreed.

"Sometimes we are forced to live in an odd world, my love. The only thing we can do is hope for a better tomorrow."

**OoOoOoOoO**

"Carlisle! Carlisle, get in here quick, something's wrong!"

Carlisle jumped out of my arms at the sound of Rosalie's voice, hurrying into the house and up the stairs, me quick on his heels.

"Rose? What's wrong?" Carlisle called as he yanked open Rosalie's door, almost tearing the giant piece of wood off its hinges.

My daughter stood there in nothing but her under garments, staring deep into a mirror she had pulled in from my own over indulgent bedroom. Her hand rested on the gold frame, her eyes centered on her own reflection. If she were able to cry, I feel she would be. Sobbing, even, by the look of it.

"Rose, honey? Can you tell us what's wrong?" I asked softly, delicately walking up to her. Even in this crazed and insane dimension I still know how to mother my children. At least I hope I do.

"You!" she suddenly roared, capturing my hand in hers as she pulled me toward the ground. She pushed me down, placing her hands on my neck as I struggled against her tight grip, my arms and legs flailing.

Carlisle jumped into action, grabbing Rosalie by her golden mane and throwing her into the stolen mirror. Her marble body instantly shattered the glass, casting tiny little shards across the room. A few fell on me and I dusted them off as Carlisle helped me up. My heels crunched under the tiny pieces as I walked over to the fallen girl, inspecting her carefully.

"Rosalie! What has gotten into you?" I scolded, making sure to keep Carlisle near as I walked closer.

Rosalie growled as she stood back up but didn't lunge. Instead she simply walked over to her bed and sat down, her head limply falling into her hands. She looked so pitiful, and although I wanted so dearly to help her, to make her feel better, I couldn't. I couldn't trust her.

I can't seem to trust anyone here.

"Listen to your mother, Rose!" Carlisle seethed as he placed two hands on my shoulders. He stared at Rosalie expectedly and she shifted uncomfortably.

"I only did what I did because this is your fault," she snapped.

"My fault?" I asked, incredibly confused.

Was she talking about this weird reality? Because I know for certain _all this _isn't my fault. Why would I want to be a whore and a nicotine addict? Of course I didn't want this. I would never wish this world on anyone.

So what _is_ she talking about?

"Have you seen what I look like?" she fumed, growling at me through clenched teeth. She reminded me a bit like a caged animal. Except not caged. Which is slightly frightening.

I felt Carlisle's grip on me tighten. I swear that man can feel my every emotion. I took a second to glance at my husband before replying to Rose. "Of course I've seen you, but I find nothing wrong with you. Aside from this insane anger, can you please explain to us why you are so torn up?"

"And why you attacked my wife," Carlisle mumbled, barely audible.

She snapped her teeth at Carlisle, "Oh shut up. Your wife deserved it; she took something that has always been rightfully mine. Vanity. She took my looks." Now she was looking right at me, her eyes narrowed, her arms firmly crossed, "I hate you."

I felt a small gasp escape my lungs at Rosalie's harsh words. Surely she didn't really mean such a thing, surely she didn't _hate me_. Yet she had said it with so much passion and anger that I believed her. I had seen Rosalie angry before, furious even on the rare occasion, but this was different.

This was very different.

"Don't you dare talk to Esme like that," Carlisle growled lowly, tugging at my sleeve to pull me closer. I allowed him, although I was hesitant to leave with him when he tried to usher me out. Usually he was the one to reprimand the children if they had done something offensive towards me, but I feel, in this situation, I need to be the one to handle it. Rosalie isn't angry with Carlisle, she's angry with me, and it's my responsibility to handle her.

Plus, when Carlisle uses 'Esme' instead of 'your mother' it's clear indication that he's lost most of his patience, which is rare but quite dangerous. I can tell by the way his lips are curled and his eyes are squinted that's he's thoroughly enraged, much too infuriated to handle such a delicate situation such as this.

"Carlisle, go. I'll handle this," I promised, pushing him away gently. I noticed the look of hurt flash across his eyes, but before I could apologize or change my mind he was gone, closing the door behind him.

Rose stared at me awkwardly, her arms lying limply at her sides. I could hear her breathing halt as her nerves began to set in. She was scared, but not scared enough to make amends. Rosalie has too much pride for that.

"Explain yourself, please," I commanded, though my tone didn't seem to match my words. It was too soft, too broken to really pack the punch I wanted it to. I sounded like a child, not a mother trying to teach her child respect.

Her century old daughter.

Why do things have to be so difficult?

"I have nothing to explain," Rosalie murmured, looking down at her hands. I noticed they were clear of any nail polish, something rarely seen on the blonde vampire. She loves buying different colors and styles of lacquer, sometimes even buying dozens of bottles at one time, along with her shopaholic sister. It was almost disturbing to see her so plain.

And plain she was. Her normal indescribable beauty seemed to have been stripped from her. She was still pretty, but she was more on the level of a normal girl. Her once curvaceous body had been thinned down to a little more than a stick, and her model looks had been whipped down to a more 'girl next door' look. She reminded me of what Alice, Bella, and I looked like. Or what I used to be, I suppose. Now I'm a disgusting monument to vanity and luxury, something I never wanted to see or be. I would give Rosalie all of her beauty back if I could rid myself of its curse.

"Excuse me? Rosalie, your tried to _attack me_. You wanted to hurt me. If this is all about our appearances now, you should be ashamed of yourself. I would have thought better of you," I said, venting a bit of my pent frustration out. My own daughter was of course a bad outlet for such things, but I needed someone to take it, and I knew at Rosalie's core she needed someone to really punish her for her actions. She needs someone to be harsher to her then she is to everyone else.

"Oh, shut up!" she bellowed, flying off the bed, her hands threateningly close to my throat. I could hear Carlisle shuffling outside the door, his hand firmly closed around the handle. But I knew he wouldn't need to come in, because Rose wouldn't try to do anything. I stood my ground and didn't move, allowing her no satisfaction in seeing my fear. I wouldn't show any.

She hissed and stalked over to the window, yanking the curtains open to look out over the river. Her eyes darted across the green landscape as she searched the thick glass for her own reflection. When it finally appeared she touched it gently, running her fingers across the smooth surface, as if to make sure it was real. She looked so distant as she stared at herself, and the way she was forced to look away after a few seconds broke my heart. I couldn't bear the thought of having my own daughter in so much pain, but at the same time I couldn't help her, because she needed to get through her own problems herself. They were obviously vain and materialistic problems she was facing, but they were bothering her none the less, and that was enough for me to feel sorrow for her, even after what she did to me.

"I'm sorry, Esme," she whispered as she slowly pulled the peach colored curtains back around the window. Her fingers fluttered over the silky fabric for another second before she walked over to me and took my hand in hers. She scrutinized my skin and nails for a moment, as if comparing them to her own, and then guided me to the bathroom off of her bedroom. It was fairly unimpressive after exploring my own bathroom, but definitely more my style, what with its modern feel and blank white walls. She showed me a stool and told me to sit down on it, pushing it forward as to face the small mirror situated above the sink. She stood behind me, placing her hands squarely on my shoulders and pushing my face so I was forced to look into my own reflection. It was startlingly painful.

"I'm sorry what I did to you Esme, but you must understand what I am feeling right. You must understand how bad this pains me," she whimpered softly. Her grip on my shoulders tightened as she continued. "For so many years my gift was what I saw in the mirror every day, and to be stripped of that so randomly is…terrifying. You've always had the ability to love so deeply, and that was your gift and you deserved it. You weren't the prettiest Cullen girl…"

"Thank you, Rose," I said, an obvious note of sarcasm evident in my voice.

She sent me a spine chilling glare and continued, "But you had the most powerful gift. And now you have not only your amazing gift, but you now have mine as well. Look at this."

I felt a cold hand wrap around my lower cheek and chin, pulling it toward the mirror. She directed it evenly so I was looking directly into my own red colored eyes. My mind burned in agony as I stared into those eyes. How many lives have I taken? How many families have I broken? What have I done?

"You don't see what I see, do you?" I asked sharply around Rosalie's hold on my face. Her grip loosened as she gave me a perplexed look.

"You see a beautiful woman, gorgeous even, but all I see is a monster. I see someone who has killed more people then she can count. A hideous face with a hideous past to accompany it, that's all I see. I don't want this, Rose. I never did, and I never will. I didn't want you to lose what you had; I just wanted you to appreciate things that go deeper then vanity. I wanted you to realize that your gift isn't your beauty, it never was. You're a strong woman who doesn't need a pretty face to make her mark on the world. You do that on your own so effortlessly. So don't worry, Rose," I whispered softly as I eased myself off of the stool. "Everything is going to be ok."

Her arms wrapped around my waist as she pulled me into a tight hug. Surprise floated across my mind for a moment before I returned the embrace, pulling the young woman toward me.

"I'm so sorry, Esme. I'm so sorry," she murmured furiously into my shoulder. I shushed her lightly, smoothing her hand lightly as she sobbed, her body racking with unshed tears. "Oh, I wish I could be the woman you think I am, Esme," she cried. I felt her slide from my grip, almost falling to the floor were it not for my quick reflexes. I grasped her waist, pulling her up so I could carry her to the bed. I placed her down gently, rubbing her arm as she sobbed into my shirt, her hands tugging at the fabric as if begging me to do something.

But I couldn't. I couldn't do anything but try and soothe her with comforting words, which never seemed to do much of anything. She just needed to cry, really cry, and I allowed her to do that. The earlier thought of punishing my precious daughter was thrown away as I stared at her slumped and shaking form. How could I do anything to such a fragile creature? How could I hurt her?

After a few more minutes Carlisle came back in, offering his assistance, which Rosalie refused. She promised she would be okay and that I was welcome to leave if I wanted to. Carlisle and I stayed with her for another half hour before heading back to our bedroom where we lied down together on our massive bed, wondering aloud what on earth we were supposed to do.

"How are we going to make it through, Carlisle," I pondered, twirling a finger around a golden lock. He grabbed my hand and planted a swift kiss on the top before smirking and shrugging casually.

"Sometimes things don't always go as planned. That doesn't mean we lose all hope. My sweet Esme, we will always be able to survive, no matter what is thrown at us."

One of his hands snaked around to my back, his fingers steadily pulling the fabric away from my body as his other found the back of my head, pushing me forward so he could capture my lips in a searing kiss. I allowed his hands to rid me of my clothes as mine did the same to his, leaving us both bare on the oversized bed.

"I'll always love you," he whispered in my ear as he pushed himself above me, his arms towering over me on both sides, imprisoning me in his comforting embrace.

"As will I," I promised as he lowered himself onto me, passion coursing through my veins like cheap lust.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

**I'm so sorry readers! I know it's been a while, but I've been pretty busy! Don't leave now, I got even more gooey opposite goodness lined up! Stick with me guys!**

**Hope you liked this chapter, review!**


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